Wish Him Luck

Step right up, folks! Please deposit your token,
And I’ll share with you words that most oft go unspoken,
Show you inside of doors that are never so open…

See the man’s life as a run of bad jokes! And
See his eyes tear from the cigarette smoke! And
See him play guitar strings like his heartstrings were played- ‘til they broke! And
You’ll see that the Heimlich’s no help when it only feels like you’re choking…

So with the alarm clock each day,
He resumes his part in our play,
Takes back the role of a soul who acts like everything is okay.
And when cold eyes lock with his greys,
The kid just turns away-
No one asks him to stop, there’s no way he could stay,
‘Cause behind that stage smile, there’s nothing he can say…

But through silence, he screams
As nightmares replace dreams-
He’s drowning in rapids overflowing his streams.
And finally, it gets to the point where it seems
That the only way out is the Bobst Diving Team…

But that option’s as viable as the facts are deniable,
Like the fact that everyone loves and everyone dies, and we’ll
All just keep settling for our pain and our lies to ourselves.
When we have nothing to fear but real life itself,
And his greatest fear is that the story writes itself,
But if he pulls this off, then it just might sell-
And if he sells it right, he could even sell himself,

And maybe, well, maybe it all might turn out well,
So wish him luck...