Itís my own fault - the tears I spill,
the oohs & aahs
I have gotten myself into the strangerís
I have come up with my own goals,
and choices made
And now, I cannot get myself out
of this track.
It has sharp slippery edges
I curse those that laid down the track,
My patience will soon burst
and I hang my head like a bad schoolboy
The Track, with the track, on the track...
But why is it never enough for me -
Conditions, generally, in this track
noone to knock you, or drag you -
no complaints, -
You want to move ahead -
Noone is depriving you of food or drink
in this costy little track
I have convinced myself:
I am not the only one that has fallen into this track, -
Keep at it - round and round! -
And I shall arrive to the same place as everyone.
All of sudden someone yelled:
"Let me go!"
And started arguing with the track out
And in that argument he burnt all his soulís
warmth reserves -
and all the valves and liners
But he has fiddled with the edges -
and the track has widened.
Suddenly, his tracks have stopped...
The oddball was dragged into a ditch,
So that he canít get in the way of those of us in the back rows
Trespassing somebody elseís track.
The trouble has found me also,
my starter seized -
Now its not travel but fidgeting
in one spot,
And I should get out, push -
but I have no inclination, -
Perhaps someone will arrive
and pull me out.
I wait for help in vain,
Itís some foreign track.
I would like to spit out clay and rust
at this strangerís track
which I have deepened myself, and
thus killing the hope of all those behind me.
I broke out in a cold sweat
to the bone,
And I just walked forward down
And I see that the land has been washed out
by spring creeks,
and there is now exit out of the rut -
I spit dirt out from under the tires
Into this foreign track.
Hey, you, back there, do as I do!
This means - no need to follow me.
This track itís only made for me,
Get out using your own tracks!