The winds can change south at the crossroads of the world
When everything else seems to have gone north
But the weather doesn’t choose our destination
It doesn’t alter our course
Your fate is not preordained
Nor can it change due to course correction
You cannot decide which way the wind blows
But you can always predict its direction
You can choose your own path
And sometimes our paths will converge
And sometimes our fates are colliding
Our worlds, so different, will merge
Are you praying or preaching?
What does your gospel hide?
What do your scriptures tell you?
What secret meanings lie inside?
Have you no faith in wisdom?
Have you no hope for change?
Have you no taste for freedom?
History remains the same
We can rewrite our future
We can plan our own escape
Our past is clearly written
It’s today that’s taking shape
But in the end we’re all presenting
Our failures and our fortitudes
On our sleeves we wear our hearts and fortunes
And we spend it all in solitude
In the end we are forgiven
In the end we embrace our sentimentality
Our youth is quickly spent and plundered
It’s in death we learn our own mortality
— David Allen