Cactus

What you used to be
What you tell yourself you are today
It’s no mystery
There’s a reason for the way we do these things
And it makes no sense to me
There’s no convoluted reason it should be
You notice everything
You can tell the desert forest from the trees
With no history
There’s no logical conclusion that’s complete
What you won’t believe
Is that in order to forgive you must receive
What’s that saying?
What’s that old philosophy?
What’s that saying?
What’s that old mentality?