Army Of Ponch Where's My Miyagi
looking back is no option
no regrets
no what if I had just bit my tongue or swallowed my pride
we might have had something more
than a name and addiction in common
through breaking my back
this hole is filling under feet
worked weary from the digging
finally catching a breath
it's cold and it stings
but it works in short distance sprints
it's cold and it stings
but it works
in short distance sprints
then blood starts to thin
eyes dilate
co-ordination is lost now
I'm breaking my arm racing his ghost to the truth
or the death or until I forget how I justified anger
and fell like the rain to remember why
I love and I live and what makes them worth remembering
