Things tend to get put on hold
when you get hit by a truck
then they tell you you’re too old
when you try to catch up
They’ll tell you you’re just too late
You’re just out of luck
Well, fuck this splintered,
hand-me-down crutch
I’ll throw it down and walk around
Like I own everything I touch
Because I do
And nothing can take the place
Of what you live through
And you’re one of the lucky ones
If you’re not still breathing through a tube
And I don’t think my lucks run out yet
You can quote me on that
and you may as well bet
I promise you
no matter how far I get
I never forget
The way you believed
The way you saw what others didn’t see
I will work hard to harden
The fingertips that have softened
and dedicate my life
to proving them wrong
and proving you right