Crafter - Crossroads

At these crossroads we either beg or strive for a better life ahead
That shell-shocked vision, captivating when youth was stolen
Nurturing an awareness of who I am and what I will need to believe
If I am going to survive this world with the slightest flame
To guide us through the forests of disbelief
It must've rattled your skull when the market fell
Jeff's wife ran out and he put a shell through his mouth
It's a hell of a thing where men go to die
The theatres are now a terrain undefined
But in this need for self-reliance I'm dodging gutters, motel run-off needles and stumbling twenty-somethings where our daughters tuck their skirts while avoiding the alleyways
So if peace was anything, it was a song
It was the last word in that defining verse
It counted for something, it picked our heads up from the floors
And was never in the passing trees, swaying wires or new England leaves, the blood and the bruising in Chicago streets

It was found in you and me while we questioned everything, never to surrender truth and decency
Maybe next year when the van leaves us stranded it will all make sense to us
Somehow it all makes sense to me