I Try and I Try

I try to do the best I can in all I do,
I try and I try to make sure I am true.
But every now and then I fail
to live up to what was nailed
the Cross, it's not the things you put into yourself,
it's what comes out and lies on the shelf.

I'm a hopeless romantic who loves the Sunset,
when I see that certain girl, I tend to forget
the place I'm at and think of where her and I could be.
I think of the sea, Barcelona, New York, Sydney.
Alas! as fate would have it, I can never be loved back,
it's as if my mind is empty, my heart not more than black.

I'm a cynical idealist who knows how to fix the wrongs
yet I know that not a thing'll change given time long.
Simply because the truth is never wanted anymore,
it's only wanted slant like was said over a century before;
could it be possible that Humanity wishes to fail so
that we shall lose all we've done, forget all we know.

I try to do the best I can in all I do,
but I know that whatever happens,
I'll keep on rolling, rolling on through
to the next big bump on the commons.
I'll wear down my stone over time I know,
but whatever hits me let this be seen:
no matter the season or the places I'll go,
the grass shall somewhere be a lovely green.