pushing

Sometimes all I can do is push forward, When I really want to push back I feel like I'm living in an organized chaos Where I have a strict schedule, a strict plan for the future, A planned map of exactly where I want to go, and I feel like that map is now burning I feel like a spinning compass, a lost traveler, A sky without a North star to guide, A ship without a captain, A soul without another to unite A barren wasteland, with emptiness echoing across the meadow A tumbleweed drifting off into the distance A dandelion seed flying into the wind A girl who thinks she's got it together But really doesn't have a clue And so the clock ticks, the wheels turn, the pendulum swings And only tomorrow will tell What will come of us