We wonder where we went wrong.
Everything started out fine; we felt on fire, we felt strong.
But the path we made took us away from the flame,
And our new ID is a debt that can’t be repaid.
Maybe we’re all out of ideas.
Maybe all the futures we have belong in files in a dusty room.
Are we meant to create them and then never update them?
Out of sight out of mind,
Is all hope now left behind?

All eyes are on me now
I’ll be in the system ‘til it spits me out
Press and release again
One day out and the next day in
When do we heal?
When do we fight for people that fall?
When do we heal?
Or do we press and release again?
No I haven’t figured it out.
I’ve been at the bottom and I’m still a work in progress.
There’s still lots to fight about.
But I was allowed a second chance in the crowd,
And I feel like I owe my life to working this out.
Lately I’ve been thinking this through.
Maybe there is more we can do to move the needle on the issue.
There are victims in pain and there are families at stake.
The system is built on the choices that we all make.