Intentions fall flat
Like useless messages guarded by larger hands
You’ve got to go your own way
Mix your own brand of dynamite
If you can’t be sure
Does it even have to be real to begin with?
You’ve got to come to terms
And understand that others have their own.
I’m not trying to mix you into something bigger than I am
You have just become an ingredient for my mixing hand
This isn’t to leave a lasting impression it is to strike a key
To drop a note to give a hint so I might one day just see
That all this movement isn't something all about only me
There is a root that’s gaining ground, on its way to being free