We find our reason.
We find our time to begin.
We find our sunsets don’t have an end.
They say we’re crazy.
They say we’re going to hell.
They say we’re quiet, so why must they yell?
Then it’s going.
Throwing thoughts through a closed window.
Roads lead to knowing where we’ll go next.
We search for constant.
We search for steady on hills.
We search for peaceful, and find it we will.
They think it’s easy.
They think it’s an old bike.
They think it’s just us, but they’ll never have a clue
what any of this is like.
This road leads to knowing
what leads to what’s next.
this is your life chuck johnson 