We all have a rock to which we cling to
Worn out finger tips and bitter tears
From holding on to our rock of fears.
Insanity is a room we enter with an open mind
The door is closed so freely.
The outstretched arms and finger tips
Are just the friends that remember
And linger long enough in the mind
For that mental surrender.
I once stood in a streetlight
I knew that you were there
I wanted you so much
That I never had a care.