Wishing - Bad Moves

Everybody wants to know:

«What are you gonna be?»

A handful of hours of air inside your lungs

But we’ve got months of dreams

We build a world around you

In the foolish belief:

There is a nobleness to these projections

Whispered as you sleep

I know these wishes get so heavy

And oh, sometimes they make us blind

I’ll try to see you as you are

Dwindling households and fictional scenes

My mother lamenting the vanishing vision of what she saw for me

Quelling the forecast of roads up ahead

These are the lives that we never stop wishing we’d lived instead