no me gusta mi trabajo. i'm praying for a new job. specifically one in the music industry...

sometime in high school, i remember having to drive down to l.a. by myself. i don't recall the reason, maybe i was just bored. the car radio was broken and a 20-hour drive without music is the pits, so i made sure to bring my boombox and plenty of C-batteries. i had one tape... a bunch of michael w. smith songs. i did alot of singing that trip.

there are millions down on their knees
among the many, can you still hear me?
hear me asking, "where do i belong?"
is there a vision that i can call my own?
show me...
i'm looking for a reason, roaming through the night to find my place in this world
my place in this world
there's not alot to lean on, i need your light to help me find my place in this world
my place in this world