It is not easy to look back,
 And stare at your mistakes
 But I must admit I often do that
 And get a kick  out off my bed
  
 I have my old ways
 Those habits that I built,
 No one to blame but myself
 They are a work of my hands
 They are a work of my will.
 It is not easy to see
 Your skin spread across the ground,
 But I do like to lick my wounds
 And imagine I am safe and sound.
  
 But I am not safe
 Nor I am sound
 And this you have taught me.
  
 I have not been safe,
 Nor have I ever been sound
 But it is like this that you brought me.
  
 Because, everything crumbles
 But not me,
 Everything stalls
 Except this:
  
 I have my old ways
 And they brought me to where I stand
 And now I can see what
 My new ways have for me
 A promised land
  
 Slowly but surely 
 I am moving along
 I am changing my old ways
 Let me whistle my new song.