Headstones

I've been running all my life
 Like a chicken heading for the knife
 Inside the farmer's pen
 Most of me was left behind
 In school where I first learnt to write
 With my father's pen
 Mighty was the sword I thrust
 Until the words betrayed my trust
 And secrets gave away
 I was young and juvenile
 Inferno hot and volatile
 I had so much to say
 And the children in the park are playing
 Suspiciously they look to me
 Like headstones in a graveyard swaying
 Sometimes it is hard to see
 That all we have is what we need
 I'm always wanting more
 When you're lost with no one else
 It doesn't help to find yourself
 It helps to find the door
 And the children in the park are playing
 And the headstones are silently waiting
 History is littered with
 Has-beens who have never lived
 Do not look away
 This could be your destiny
 Unless you learn that you are free
 And leave behind the chains
 And the children in the park are playing
 And the headstones are the only thing staying...