I started down a lonely dirt path,
back when I was just a kid.
Never knew where I was heading,
but I knew I might as well walk somewhere,
even if in the end, it got me nowhere.
This new, mystical nowhere I was walking to was better than the nowhere I already knew.
The path never got wider, never got less lonely.
I fell down some, and it sorta hurt,
but not really.
I kept walking,
til' one day, found a path moving away from my path, into the unknown.
The new path was identical to my path,
except someone had drawn a heart in the dirt on the new path.
So I left my path to this new path.
I didn't want to be alone.
Well, this path was different.
It did change.
Some stretches, flowers grew alongside the path.
Some stretches, the dirt turned to stone
and when I fell, it hurt.
I've been walking along this path now,
and it's changed more time than years I am old.
Sometimes I want to go back to my old path,
the path that wasn't stained with my blood.
Where eveything was certain- well, mostly certain.
But there, I was lonely.
Nothing is certain here, and
I do not know but one thing-
If going down this road leads to you-
I will scrape my legs on this asphalt as many times it takes
to get to the end.