every time i round a bend or reach a mountain top
i seem to stumble and fall,
tumbling further from where i began
i am tired of failing, of falling, i am through

there is no simple solution in a box; no salvation
only more hurt, discontentment, and anquish
i despise the pessimist in me, but there it is
now a bottle of sedation sits before me, numbing me

oh how i long for the days of my childhood
wandring aimlessly in life, pondering the adventurous
i was stupid then, but i was most happy and joyful
i buried those days in my backyard with my piggybank...