<font color=steelblue>transient</font>

Red is the blood of the one who sits In the corner weeping tears Red is the one who is cold and tired Crying for passing years Bright is the song of the young man singing Who hears the whistle blow Bright are the hopes of the young man wanting To defeat his only foe Dark is the hour in which he comes To claim his procuring cry Dark is the soul of the one who is vengeful To prod his foe in the eye Many are the dreams of the young man dreaming Vast is the young man's heart Many are the foes, and, against his wishing, Soon do the killings start Fall to your knees he cries to the others Fall to your knees he screams You are the ones he yells at their bodies Who ruined all my dreams He in a bind and his dreams in a blender He wanders around the room He's in a daze and their screams stay to linger As he wonders about his doom He seems to come out short-handed at first Before the battle is done His enemies are kept in mind Of which there stands only one He must fight another soon and He must stand alone He defeats another's mind And that mind is his own We are transient beings, sir We travel as we please So take these words I write to you And put yourself at ease This man that I have spoken of Who his enemies did find He is a creation Solely of my screwed-up mind...