They implode with emotion unheard of through 1% dreams.
lost souls form packs of nomad warriors in search of the next scheme...
Challenged by population,
or popularity as it be,
judged not only by God,
or Satan,
but all humanity.
Yet tall they stand,
and high they ride,
raising hell just like the tide,
surfing the endless paved waves of that asphault sea,
searching for nothing but the coming days and to be free.
No man's dream to big
and none to small,
only the toughest look forward to the fall,
only 1% of them all.
-Timm
and now, back to work I go...
