It’s been a quarter of a century, I’ve been trying to make it to the moon without even getting off the ground
My path was made for me coming out of the womb, just had to listen for the sound
But I made my own set of rules I was my own boss, I made my own goals
No, it wasn’t my choice, it wasn’t up to me, I’m not in control

I could have made it to the top perched out on the peek where the cold wind blows
But I was forced to stop I was tired and weak, now I’m warm under the golden robe
Now with every step, once led from afar is coming from inside
In the end I know I will be soaring through the sky

But I still don’t know which way the winds will turn
That’s okay, I’m not even concerned
Because my Sheppard never sleeps
He’s got his eye fixed to the field like the Commander in Chief

I’ve chased the roar of the engine and the bright city lights but not the beating of my heart
I’m tired of asking questions, I keep losing every fight, just show me where to start
I’m packing my bags, buckling up, we’re leaving on a trip
Where we’ll go is up to the captain of this ship

(repeat chorus)

(repeat chorus)

Levi Dean (BMI) © 2009

Responses to “Quarter of a Century”