I drive with ends in mind, I wonder, in thoughts I love to dwell,
Which road leads to my best find? Which, I cannot tell.
For I’m driving with my eyes blind, back I cannot turn,
The irony of this thing I’m in, from my past I never learn.
After I find my path, from splits, can I keep on driving?
Will my horse fall to the ground and the rider not care a thing?
That I cannot know, until I choose my perfect part,
So I contemplate my life away looking for a heart.