Written along the path I walk.
I see them there, the lines I\'ve drawn.
Both faded and dull.
Never forget, the lines remain.
My mother weeps at the road I\'ve chosen.
The choice was made.
A mistake to be, forget the lines.
They are all but faded.
You see the lines, I see them too.
Follow them if you choose.
Yet be wary my friend.
It will be my path you walk,
not your own.