Someone once told me if you wanna amount
To something, then first you've gotta rise above
So I took dreams, catapulted strings
And moved fast past ominous towers

But what becomes of our outcomes
Besides steel, stone, and regret?
I think I'm unconscious
Because the sun is seen as merely an object
But I'm I too careful?
Am I late I sight because of what I've got my
Eyes set on?

Right now my worst fear is I die bored out of my mind
We're all critics to each others judgement
And I'm running out of attractions to pick me up
I've been setting on these shores for years now
But what becomes of our outcomes
Besides steel, stone, and regret?

I think I'm unconscious
Because the sun is seen as merely an object
Please pick me up familiar friends!