There's the sting of losing and you look at your loss
And you wonder if you'll make it with the burden of the cross
That weighs you down and bakes you every minute of the day
But I swear, and I'm certain, you would have tossed those things anyway.
There are things that you want. And things that you need
And the two get entangled in confusion and greed
You might feel like you've been dangled in some forced-upon decay
But I've come to the conclusion: yes, I believe you wanted freedom from these things anyway.
There's got to be destruction for things to be renewed
And though right now the notion may seem a bit askewed
Beyond the commotion of what has gone astray, I'm sure that you'll discover
I'm sure that you'll conclude: you never needed what you lost anyway.