Here we are destined for the edge again,
In our boat filled with stubbornness and ignorance,
Will we float?
If we do then that means we’ll burn at the stake,
Here we are dancing round the flames again,
To our gods hoping they will bring the rains again,
But if they don’t then we’ll shower in the shit that we create,
We’re cracking up and we’re coming undone,
But I think we’ve got this,
‘Cause we know the pages we turn because we wrote them,
It’s a setback, insurmountable setback,
Hardly means a thing anyway,
As i’m speeding on the high road,
I can see I need to let go,
Now I’m saying,
Please believe I think we’re alright.