I’ve tried my best to stop the wheels of time
to pray, to serve, to love, to eat
to atone, for my part of crime.
I can’t say, my love meant much success.
I was all alone and much undressed.
I was disturbed and would not egress.
Could it be that it wasn’t meant to be?
That the price of art, was my — humanity?
I tried my best to stop the wheels of time
to cough, to choke, to sweat, to urge
to avoid, my share of grime.
I can’t say, my love was blessed
I can’t say, I got it off my chest
I was troubled, and my mind was stressed
Could it be that it wasn’t meant to be?
That the price of art was my — humanity?