Quarter Life Crisis

I hope I get it figured out
Whatever this shit’s all about
I hope I accomplish what I’m meant to do
Before my era on this flying rock is through

Cause I’ve just been listing
Drinking tea and kind of drifting
From one year to the next
To the next and the next

No purpose, more than halfway to fifty
Just waiting for something to hit me
‘Calm down, girl. It’s fine,’ they say
‘You’re young, you’ve got time, it’s okay.’

But it’s been twenty-six years of them screaming ‘talent and potential’
And still the only time I’m essential
Is while senselessly killing myself
To make them rich, no regard for my health

In my soul I know there must be more
Or what the hell has this all been for
But who on this Earth has the time
To find their purpose, while living on their own dime?

‘Cause money makes the world go round
So we run our bodies into the ground
Put our dreams and passions on hold
Sure we’ll pick them up before we’re cold

Eventually they wither away
Crushed beneath responsibilities compounding by the day
Leaving nothing when we’re gone, but our name
And the thousands of ways we’re all exactly the same

There maybe an alternative though, you see
If I can find that which sets my spirit free
Maybe I can break the spell
Be more than just the same old story to tell

My mind is restless
My hands itch
My heart aches for a path
Wild, untested, and rich.

Will I leave their hearts better than I found them?
Will I do anything worth while?
Will they miss me when I’m gone?
Will they say that I ever made them smile?

I hope for cause
I hope for a way
To leave more of a dent in this world
Than just my grave


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