Fugitive

shiftless moods breed certain fools

who lose their way when darkness falls

wandering souls who’ve lost their way

and fall from grace when duty calls

away they run to foreign lands

that call them so invitingly

to begin the cycle once again

until a problem arises, then they’ll flee

until their woes weigh them down

and begin to slow their tired feet

their heads are buried in their hands

their tired eyes filled with deceit

for all their lives they’ve been a fugitive

running from an awful ghost

this apparition that dwells inside them

they are almost sure to boast

is the source of all they’re problems

all their ills and woes

but they are not caused by this apparition

but by a far greater foe

this beast that dwells inside them

and their soul, he’s surely bought

this fierce and ugly beast

is none other than negative thought