Ever forget who you were for a second?

That’s my trip, and I’m not trying to defend it.

I’m here to pay the price, it’s just the opposite.

By December’s end they’ll see,

This isn’t how I wanted it.

-Steps back-

Now you should know that I’m the last to judge;

I’ve been cruel, and had my fill of blood.
But there’s a higher power, and it doesn’t seem to budge

Until my back’s against the wall, until I’m face down in the mud.

-Steps back-

The right thing, what is that?
Stepping up or stepping back?

Giving into the direction of the wind,

Or running against the gust, in a desperate sprint?

-Steps back-

What am I doing, acting like I don’t know better?

What happens when you put two “wrongs” together?

Steps backward into horror,

Where shadows run before they crawl.

-Steps back-

Does it still count as racing the wind,
When you give in to the fall?