Where do you go when smiles have lost their meaning?
Where do you run when the tide of life is beating on your heart?
Where is the light when the sun's been gone for hours
And the showers of your tears tear you apart?

Someday I will run
In open fields of sunlight
Someday I will be
More than just a fading memory

Would you fight for me
If it meant that you might lose part of yourself
Would you stay with me
If -I - told - you - that I can't feel much else

Would you dare to try
If - I cannot see the sunset in the skies
Would you know my name
If what you found was I've already died
Would you bring me back to life


And all the things I see
Start to fade away without you
And all the things we've dreamed,
Or lost along the way, they call my name


Would you take the time
If time was all I had to help you see
Would you stand and stay
Beside me when my world turns grey
If I fall away


Do all the things I'd say,
With the laughter start to fade all about you
'Cause all the things I see
They start to fade away without you
And all the things we dreamed,
Or lost along the way, they scream your name
They light my way, back home

Pocket Change

Sometimes I get tired of me. Tired of the same old struggles, the same old face staring back at me in the mirror. Sometimes I feel that I am a person I'd rather not know. I'd rather see me on the street, a beggar calling for real change instead of it's counterfeit, and keep walking. Sometimes I'd like to see what it's like to be you. Maybe if I was away from these step-brother sins, I could see the real picture and never forget it. If I could see me from the outside, would I know when something is wrong? Would I have the strength to ask myself and not fear what the answer would be? Could I convince myself to embrace more than pocket change? Weariness is an unfit companion, but one who refuses to leave. He dogs your step from the beginning of the road to the end... which is sometimes the place that he choses, and no farther. I am a place that I can never vacation from. I am a never-ending project with few rewards. I am a word that never seems to look like it's spelled right, but never loses its meaning. But I am never far from hope. I will never give up on lost causes. I will not buy the neatly wrapped package of resignation. I have not given up on myself. And I never will; because I was not given up on.

Clay

Shaken and bruised,
All that's left of you
Are the pieces that you never quite could lose.
Out on your own,
All you wanted was to be alone.
But your mind keeps buying lies your heart can't own.

And someday really meant to make its way to where you are,
But in the rush and static of the day it seemed too far.

And so you wait
For wicks of hope to flame.
But that fire is the one thing you can't tame.
When colors fade
Did your blue skies change
Or did they just forget their colors on the way

And someday really meant to make its way to where you are,
But in the rush and static of the day it seemed too far.
We'll start again when the flowers that you kept for dreary days
Through the broken heart of winter on wings of color fly away
We'll begin once more where all is either faded or forgotten--
Not forgotten, just unable to be known.