These dark times we ride til we figure it out The bitter tears we hide while we're thinking aloud Thinking allowed Riddle me a grand scenario Where we go from here Very old, the query goes: He's got four on the floor, starting to crawl He's got a bag with luck, spilling a lot Swap a little by little with his personal growth Learning to stand on his own precarious toes Two points of contact His head in the clouds The road is gone He's looking for a path of his own No matter the way he goes It's foretold in the book of lives of the rich and poor souls The Honey Days are over and out The old man use a cane to hobble around The big bag that he takes is truly profound Til the man and the bag are put in the ground Chill, the man is a mask of many around The plan was to act and play for a while Still, the pain he amassed was part of the trial The flame in his heart could set him afire, chill The man is a mask of many around The plan was to act and play for a while Still, the pain he amassed was part of the trial The flame in his heart could set him afire, chill