Kid, tomorrow is not promised.
Life is merely – a breath.
You live your life to breathe and only you can decide
What to do with each breath.
So each hour you and you alone
Make 360 big decisions – 360 breaths –
What to do with this mighty, mighty power –
To breathe.

You can call a king.
You can crown a king,
You can become a king,
You can crown yourself king,
Emperor,…God.
You can choose to have it all,
Then throw it all away,
Then have it all again,
As restless as the foaming rollers
Crashing onto King Canute’s Beach.

Yes, but what does it really satisfy?
As for me and mine,
We will follow the footsteps of the Beggar King,
And make straight the paths
Of the God who created the game
And we invite you to follow us
Uphill, towards that some day
Happy Tomorrow,

Up there, where the blue skies and the green earth
Hold each other
Close –
Up there where a high white peak
Covered in snow
Holds in stone all tomorrow’s rivers –
Up there where the purity of the air is the
Purity of the heart, is the purity of the will to do one thing
And that one thing is:

To finally see your own face clearly
And to know yourself
For the first time.
Because only if you know yourself
Can you finally see a way clear to a promised tomorrow,
A promised land.
And I pray we meet up there-
On higher ground.

– RW Rushing