Post by Michael Santiago on Jun 13, 2011 3:24:50 GMT -5
Last year I fought a sickness, last year I fought a friend. Last year was the year if many, many things that came to an end. Last year I thought I wouldn't make it or that I'd never be back. Last year was the last year that is never coming back.
I'm coming home, back to where I belong. I'm coming back to those ropes, those mats, that ring and that dream. I'm coming home from a year of nevers, a year of doubts and sacrifices. I'm coming back against the odds because I'm a man who has defied and redefined them. I'm coming back to rebuild a house that had stood the test of time for so long that it could no longer bare that burden.
What I overcame was a sickness, but what I have is a disease. I'm still ill, chasing paper dreams. I know what I used to be, something great, a million miles above fate. Fare, the sickness endures, because I refuse to quit, to never keep moving forward.
Its a sickness...
A sickness that I cure in the ring, every time that bell chimes.
Its a sickness...
An addiction...
But I ain't complaining, because I'm still poetry in motion...
I'm coming home, back to where I belong. I'm coming back to those ropes, those mats, that ring and that dream. I'm coming home from a year of nevers, a year of doubts and sacrifices. I'm coming back against the odds because I'm a man who has defied and redefined them. I'm coming back to rebuild a house that had stood the test of time for so long that it could no longer bare that burden.
What I overcame was a sickness, but what I have is a disease. I'm still ill, chasing paper dreams. I know what I used to be, something great, a million miles above fate. Fare, the sickness endures, because I refuse to quit, to never keep moving forward.
Its a sickness...
A sickness that I cure in the ring, every time that bell chimes.
Its a sickness...
An addiction...
But I ain't complaining, because I'm still poetry in motion...
