Kevin Hicks

i used to be mean
or was i just feeling lower
maybe i'm strange
maybe i'm just a little slower

CHORUS
give me a penny for my thoughts
i will throw it in your wishing well
stare into the empty, waters
there i'll waste away, i will waste away
i really can't be certain
as time goes on it's hard to tell
forgot to mention what i wanted
nothing left to say

you wanted my pride
but i just ran away
maybe i'm weak
maybe i'm just past dismay

wonder what's ahead of me
things that i can not see
passage to uncharted destinations
losing ground to hidden shames
bind my fear in broken chains
lost in some unspoken obligation

CHORUS
and i don't have time to lick my wounds
or be buried in the victim's tomb
my life with her is like a healing salve
and i don't have to make a lasting sound
or accomplish anything profound
as long as i keep sight on what i have
i'll be where she is, where she is - where she is

what's ahead and left behind
the present seems so hard to find
trapped within this mental litigation
sitting in a rocking chair
white-washed walls, an empty stare
pining for another situation

a treacherous wisdom, a vanity fair
snatching these mantras out of the air
the lord is my shepherd and i shall want more
the lord is my money, the green-painted whore

you try to use logic, you try to use charm
you promise protection, then offer me harm
am i just a player in your casual charade
am i just a banner in your dark parade

CHORUS
someday i may stand for all that is true
someday i may finally be free of you
someday i may finally see who i am
someday i may be a well-to-do-man

you beg from the pauper, you take what you get
you tip-toe on water, try not to get wet
you run through the fire, try not to get burned
you watch your life fading without much concern

maiden years, see and say
running down to empty
hear the sound of dismay
a tiny voice within me

what does it mean to waste away
what does it mean to wait

CHORUS
see through the eyes of yesterday
a state of false belief
we live in what we've made
dream through the course of what we may
what does it mean to waste away
and what we are to be
fallen tear in candlelight
evaporates into the night

tense the stand, shrill the cry
victory and blunder
screamed alarms, nostalgic sighs
through the roaring thunder

seems so many of us are all roped and wired
digging for identity in a world that's growing tired
i have listened to your philosophy
it's hard to get a word in edge-wise
even harder to agree

CHORUS
walking away, you can keep this space for free
what you think doesn't matter much to me
walking away, doesn't matter if i'm wrong
i'm just looking for a place where i'll belong

seems so many of us are all up in arms
numb to all the mysteries and hidden charms
i have listened to your reasons why
you're talking 'bout the future
meanwhile i'm just trying to get by

looking through the pearly walls
through the dust and broken stalls
i try to rearrange
turning in, fade away
through the gusting wind, decaying
just concentrating - so much debating

CHORUS
it's there i choose to run
it's there i ever wander
if fortune's running late
i guess i'll have to wait
i stop before i've won
i spend until i squander
i'm in a dimmer state
unless i choose to wait

listen to an unknown voice
rest between the act and choice
i feel a small remorse
into breeze, into wind
feeling like i'm just beginning
no loss or winning, just constant spinning

seem to shake and struggle with this load upon my back
like an over-burdened steam train on a rusted track
there i fight the midnight creepers in the garden of my grief
the battle for the flag of some intangible belief

CHORUS
in my head
sorting through all the bits of propaganda i've been fed
stumbling over the obstacles through which i have been led
i think it's time i question what i've read
i think it's time i vacuum out my head

try to reconcile all these faces that i wear
try to fight influences that pull me here and there
stand in line and grab a ticket ride the pious carousel
the baby steps i take between my heaven and my hell

all the many things floating in my mind
a turning of my head, feeling left behind
satisfied by reason, a simple slight of hand
living by the words of wisdom scribbled in the sand

CHORUS
too much sadness, too much wine
too much empty-handed time
too much pacing of the floors
too much closing open doors
too much dwelling on despair
too much rushing here and there
too much living by the bells
too much faith in someone else

all the remedies offered in a hush
nod and fall in line without sense of rush
buy and sell the future while hocking yesterday
it tends to numb the brain, leaves very little left to say