Silent Draft

All paper is scrap,

All canvases, blank.

All tracks are silent --

until you create:

Let the people escape,

man,

it's a life so unpleasant.

Let those people, live life, man,

This is their Now

AND their Present.

And if this present's unpleasant

and the grass could be greener

break through those thorns --

that mud could be deeper,

Now you know --

it's all your demeanor.