Same Old Song

How many times have you been told

All that glitters isn’t gold…

And how many times did you come to see

Some of your wildest dreams weren’t meant to be?

 

How many times has it come to pass

That you realized you lack both brawn and brass…

Oh how many times you had to say goodbye,

And bury the tears you couldn’t cry.

 

And with all of those times, there are more to come,

For the teacher’s work is never done.

At times you wonder, is there such a thing as sane,

When you know that real strength is born from pain.

 

To be blissfully weak, or woefully strong?

But then, how many times have you played this song?