I don’t want to hold hands with fate anymore,
I don’t want to believe there’s a right way,
Or that I have a significant impact on worth,
On death, or the elusive act thereof.
With whom shall I grow old with,
If I am not planning it out?
With what shall I enjoy, if gamblers
Keep convincing me I’m right.
Share my soul with wounded hearts!
Hardly healthy and needing.
Share my aches amongst the rocks!
Already scalded sourly
For I am no man fit for redemption,
I am no guest at the gates of fate
And I have brought no gifts for my maker.