I have a broken compass;

it has a hard time finding North.

I think I left it alone too long.

It's grown rusty and ignored.

There are too many lights in the city sky

to try to read the stars.

All I have is my broken compass

that will not point North.

I have a broken compass.

People tell me I should throw it away.

The city lights, they instruct me,

will direct me to the path I should take.

But, maybe I do not want to go North.

I have a broken compass.

It led me away from the city lights:

not North nor South, not West nor East

but, somehow somewhere in between.

There are no footprints on this road,

there are no signs, no directions to follow.

All I have is my broken compass;

and I want to know where it leads.