And you start thinking again 'bout all those things that you've done; and who it was and what it was and all the different things you made every different scene

"Well, I must endure the presence of a few caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies.”

We walked it for a thousand years, with broken eyes and salted ears
Complaining 'bout the weather like we ever had a choice.
Through all the noise and self abuse, you waited for your fill of truth

Oh I'm terrified I'll achieve nothing at all.

drifters off to see the world, there's such a lot of world to see