Not afraid to be mistaken, not afraid to try
Not afraid to be uncertain, not afraid to die
When the words stop coming out, the music finally
stops
Pound my head against the wall, my bubble has been
popped
Lost the vibe, the fluid feel, the ink's gone from my pen
Picked apart, there's nothing left will it come back again?
When it's all been said and done, I know that I had fun

I'll take it to the grave with me
This music still lives...