Better Than Before

Based on a musical that never happened, but was equal parts tragic and hilarious.

* * *

Fresh start. New, clean moment.
Deep breath. Forget the fire.
Nothingness. Forget the ashes.
Climb on out; time to get higher.

Building from the bottom up:
that’s where we are, now.
Making something from the nothing you’ve got:
this is where you are, now.

Build the tower; build the wall.
Build the castle; build it tall.
Keep it strong and keep defending;
arm your people — enemies are sending
weapons made of bone and hate.
Take your time; it’s not too late
to start again.
It’s not too late to start again
and hope this time the end is better than before,
hope this time the ending’s better than before.

Crawl out of the hiding space
Out of the shadows; find the sun
Let the light shine on your face
You deserve this — you’re the one

who’s building from the bottom up:
that’s where we are now —
making something from the nothing we’ve got
this is where we are now.

Build the tower; build the wall.
Build the castle; build it tall.
Keep it strong and keep defending;
arm your people — enemies are sending
rebels made of bone and time
to steal whats yours and steal what’s mine,
so start again.
They’ll steal it all so start again
and hope this time the end is better than before,
hope this time the ending’s better than before.

Make your castle a fortress
bar every window and door
keep the madmen away
that’s what castles are for

Build our tower; build our wall.
Build our castle; build it tall.
Keep it strong and keep defending;
arm our people — enemies are sending
soldiers made of steel and stone,
to break our hearts and break our home
so rise again
and hope this time the end is better than before,
hope this time it means the end of war
hope this time we won’t have to kill many more.

Let’s hope this time the ending’s better
than before.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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