I've heard of riding into the desert,
With nothing but God's hand,
I've heard of driving into the racetrack,
With nothing but memorial of my homeland,
I've heard of having children,
With my beautiful, loving wife,
But Shall my life ever be so grand?
To have what I want, Will I live this life?
I've heard of Arch-Angels,
And God's heavenly skies,
And as I pray,
I push my fingers into my eyes,
Thinking of one deserts grain of sand.
~Not the best it could be, I wrote it on Feb 27th at midnight... I was tired then.
