Don Quixote

"Don Quixote" When the world's at a brink, I write it off I'm sorry if that means happiness isn't in my trough They think I'm tilting at windmills But you know I ride my trusty steed for a noble cause The causeway is untrodden, my claymore hollow And my inadequacies feed the vanguard charge to the fill Triumph over straw men until I'm swallowed I might stumble on a snake but I've never had a lawn to mow Faith comes and goes but always in prose The mission consistently grows in the face of civilization's throes Woe is the knight who is not mad For he must be, sever anger and be sad For they know not what they do Forever isn't true, the infinite lives inside me and you I pray my soul grasps out of the blue To quit being a slave to the pitiful Earthly grave