Wild

Not left to more, than a memory
A film makes shards of dreams, that I want to achieve
To make them my own, heart beats like a drum
This is the dream I hold from now on
If I could have but just one estate
In the wild, I'd take my hands to the wake of a new day
To breath that air, and feel alive and then
This is the dream, I yearn, to be born again
All that was said was unbearable
I can hear the despair and anger, peering off of their souls
If they just knew, the man I want to be
No doubt this dream, would be a reality
Speculation of speculation grew
To feel, to know, the feeling that old Chris wrote to
I want to be real, not plaster on these walls
I need to go, oh, into the wild



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