The Road

The road is unaware of the numbers in your postcode
 Doesn't care what you've achieved, seen, or done
 Next in line
 Heir to throne
 Or the nation's favourite son
 The road will not come to you in visions in the darkness
 Or send messages from above
 There'll be no warning of the journey on the road that lies ahead
 Or alarm calls to summon you from the depths of your bed
 Angels will not fall with dreams cradled in their wings
 s will not assemble
 Or mass serenade, or sing
 When the road comes calling
 It will find you when alone
 Planets will not align
 To lead you to the zone
 Of contemplative thinking where you talk and do nothing more
 The road does not keep tally
 The streets do not keep scores
 Prizes won't be awarded
 Medals won't be won
 Call me darkness the lord of lights
 First born, Jemima's son
 Vietnam-raised
 Now residing in the east
 Subject of the city
 I'm the prophet of the beast
 Who knows that "who dares wins" is a motto, nothing less
 Carpe Diem
 Seize the day
 Count the minutes
 Use one less.
 The road is selfish and the road can be hard
 The road can be long
 The road can be far
 The road will mean struggle
 The road will leave scars
 The road requires wisdom
 The road requires truth
 The road will never care about the fire in the booth
 You can pause where you want
 But you'll never raise the roof
 Until you take time to contemplate
 The seriousness of the truth
 How can you appreciate happiness
 If you know not what sadness is
 'Bout the beauty of the moment
 In the preludes to a kiss
 The anticipation of thought
 Between conception and truth
 My lips are lose