secrets, in the end

need for approval -- so strong
i have everything and nothing to prove
my life, just a menagerie of neuroses
a twisted painting, hung in a collapsing museum
a psychedelic swirling of colors
too hard to make sense of it
better left undefined
to the test of time

who am i -- i'm not quite sure
am i anybody -- you'd think i'd know by now
but to be defined by your past is a harsh punishment
we should be able to define ourselves
but it looks unlikely in the choices we get
they're not really choices, because it's all decided
free will versus fate
in the end, it ends
and we're all the same in the end

battles i've fought -- so hard and so long
i've yet to win, yet to lose -- it just continues
lesson after lesson, with no end, no beginning
to capture some peace in a world that knows only fury
is a pipe dream -- it can never be attained
but to hold the one you love -- truly love
is about as close as you can get, i figure

in the end, if this is the end, was the end, will be the end
what was gained, what was lost
will my words have made a difference
will my pain have made an impression
will my soul, my heart, my faith, leave its mark
was there a point to it all

i know the secret of life now -- it's beauty and love
they're the same, really, when it comes to that
but the trick to it all is in the mind, not the heart
you must free yourself and allow trust
allow fate to take its course
if it so chooses, fate can leave you bruised and alone
or it can lift you up to the heavens with your soul mate
it's all out of our hands anyway
in the end

so as they lay me in the ground
they can engrave my tombstone with the truth
if there is such a thing -- truth is an illusion
they can say he did it the hard way
like bette davis; 'she did it the hard way'
we do it the only way we know how
we wage our wars the best we can
without regard to the blood spilled or the lives lost
we know no more when we came into the war
than when we leave
in the end, that is the real secret, i suppose