The windmill
Your stare at the broken clock hanging on the wall
With shattered dreams scattered in your dark bedroom hall
Your life is ruled by men you never knew
And still you have the nerve to tell me what to do
The bright flashes on TV swarms your good eye
You laugh at people falling, and those adverts make you cry
Your mind is blind to the real world outside
And still you have the nerve to tell me not to hide
Your life is run by those who tell you what to do
They who know even less than you
Your fear makes you nod your head and listen very clear
And still you have the nerve to tell me “listen here”
You’ve given your life to fantasies in the sky
Who say, you start living after the day you die
So you sit on your sunken couch and close your weary eyes
And still you have the nerve to tell me “don’t be shy”
I wake to the sun and look forward to it’s rise
I never take opinions from strangers who pass me by
I love living everyday and have goals to reach
But never have I had the nerve to speak up or to preach
I was blinded by your love, by it’s comfort and it’s ease
When I had hard days you would make it easy to breathe
But I needed more, and maybe I always will
One day I’ll finally learn to take the wind from the mill
