perspiring in the dreams of hope
we aren't ready for what we wish for
but we ignore the pronounced precaution
that's just who we are.

pouring thoughts into their frigid heads
the attention in their eyes simply cannot stand
this journey is being made for the future,
so we can be remembered as their past.

so with age comes responsibilty
but at a point, we start to regress
living
moving
breathing
blinking
speaking
in reverse
and in verse, and rhymes.

so brilliantly that they'll print them on paper
and sell them in stores
we wanted to be remembered,
i suppose we got what we wished for.