We all make mistakes. The only real shame is not to try.
Days and nights worshipping in the dark. Wrong god, bitch.
Right time, wrong cult. So what? I don’t recall his name.
I’m not looking back. I’m not looking back.
My eyes are on the horizon where the rain is.
Where the birds are flying. Where the seeds are growing.
It’s a mountain. So what? Hike it till I make it.
Dress for the job you want, not the one you’ve got right?
My eye’s on the prize. My eye’s on the prize.
The small voices run circles around my mind.
Whose thoughts are these? They don’t sound like mine ever did.
Love it, hug it, shoot it, smoke it, taste it, fuck it,
stab it, tease it, haunt it, taunt it, hoop it, stupid.
I’m dusting the lens. I’m dusting the lens.
Because Pele is in my heart. She’s so hot right now.
And who the hell knew? Not me. I had no idea.
I stood at the cliffs edge and found truth in my lies.
Meditating over the Peahi ocean.
I watched myself fall. I watched myself fall.
Now there’s a hurricane of fire beneath my breasts.
My breath rises and falls as I drive, eat, dance, sleep,
but this storm has no tides, only nuclear fission.
Now it burns beyond control and won’t rest with me.
I’m searching my soul. I’m searching my soul.
What other bombs bide inside me? Tick tock. Tick tock.
I don’t give a fuck. Not really. Not anymore.
So what? The loves I could lose, I’d lose anyway.
Flowers die whether I water them or not.
I’m facing the flame. I’m facing the flame.
There’s shit and diamonds. There are brigands and buddhas.
There are paladins of love with swords that are real.
There’s piss and vinegar, and blood and wine that stain,
and saints in black trash bags and wolves in Armani.
I see you fucker. I see you fucker.
So, what? I’m not my worst enemy anymore.
All that energy is free. Lightning in my veins.
All instruments fine tuned, assets action ready.
My keys are in my hand. I’m walking to the door.
I’m rolling out, bitches. I’m rolling out.