Clean Slate

Silence people, silence.

I need to hear to those who whisper
They shall tell me the mystical stories and then soon disappear,

And although I have heard these stories before
Now coming from them it seems so very different,

I stop thinking and instead wish I was there with them in heavens
listening about their journeys and travels,

Wishing I hadn't lost that precious stone of mine
For all that I ever had to drag me through this life was that one sign,

Living every dream and learning to anticipate
What I can have and all that I could bet,

It's so very different than I thought the way it would be
Stranger than what God thought when he made me.