When did I become the person I'm supposed to be?
And when did I relax into this setting human being?
Did I choose to come to earth?
Did I choose to pick my birth?
Were my parents my own creation
In the universe of the thought in my head?
Will my house be on the wood I built?
Will my garden grow from soot and silt?
Will it be all that I wanted it to be?
To grow and be fruitful, as tall as a tree?
And I cant stop believing in the things I was taught
Will I understand this feeling when I'm not?
Will I be dead? Will it be black in head?
Will I not see my dreams or my grandfather, cousins, or these fiends?
Will I be lost in thoughts in my head?
Will I constantly circle around theses feelings in bed?
And I can't sleep at night when I smoke too much
And can't breathe and cough and I fall and I can't stand up
Do I know what's in store for me?
Will I be complacent with my history?