In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
And cut him ’til he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains
On occasion, we all do battle with motivational paralysis
Unable to perform some simple task
Trapped at the stage of analysis
Thoughts of the shortness of life may beget
Bouts of shortness of breath in your chest
Doubts about the worth of the nights you got left
Crowding out all the fear and regret
When I was a kid I saw a light
Floating high above the trees one night
Thought it was an alien
Turned out to be just god
We used to waste hours just walkin’ around
We used to wait
All those wasted lives in the wilderness downtown