Time is short, and mystery's lacking
I taste the bitter drink, and my insides cringe
I crave the pure wine, which is harder to find
Like a treasure buried in the Caribbean
Like a song only found on an 8-track
I stumble for meaning, and purpose is tiring
So I find my hands withering under the sun
I kicked the dirt, I cursed the sky
I stared in the mirror at a familiar stranger
Consumed with revenge, I said "Your death will come swiftly"
And at the end of it all, I'm back to square one
Where the beginning meets the end
Where the rubber meets the road
Where liberty is taken
And where secrets that were hidden, are killed off one by one
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