As each minute ticks closer to that final hour
I pray that it will not cause my soul to rot and sour
The bird sings and the alarm weeps
I cannot recall the most recent restful sleep
Times are tough and I pretend not to fret
I tell myself that it’s just not my time yet
The day rises and the night falls
The cacophony in my head is sure to drown out the call
A rugged path of sticks and stones
Or a smooth road that lay atop bones
I hear the siren calling and by God does it sound sweet
For the Devil is bored and needs some fresh meat
But today I will live again to tend a soul most pure
No matter the struggle I must face nor the path I will endure