I’m a pilgrim on this onward story, passing by the slow and stale. Walking past the crowded masses with eyes so cold and pale. I will go the way very few have gone before me. Past the day, I want so much more. Some spend their time calling out what others have said. The day will rise and fall again, or so I have read. I will do, not weep, past all this false critique. My joy is my strength, I’ll ask for nothing more. I will do, not weep, past all this false critique. The stonewall faces; I’ll be kicking down their door. I will go the way of the sun. So, my love, come and take my hand walking down this road. I believe in a foreign land better than we know. Where we stand secure knowing pain is not our story. We will walk through rain, through the shadow of death. Pressing on through times full of violent thunderstorming. No pulling punches through all of this mess. My son, carry my advice from all that I’ve been through. You’ll never get nowhere in life if you can’t follow through.