Life is a book
And the Author is unknown
I envision that he lives in
A cabin on a mountain all alone
And he constantly
Paces back and forth
Mustering up new ways
To knock life off its course
And the days that he feels pain
We feel it too
The days he is enraged
We start a war without a clue
Of our motive
Bodies turning blue
No commotion
And he wonders why
Along side me and you

Or maybe that's just my excuse
For when I'm feeling down
My eccentric myth of reason
Why you're not around
My prescription
To sleep safe and sound
My religion of this
"cat and mouse"

Or maybe it's the guilt

That godforsaken guilt I get
When I lay down my head to rest
I can't clear my head