I hesitate to even offer this up for the skirmish with the "LATE" prompt, because it just has the word in it. But I guess what turned out to be the overarching theme of the song was driven by the concept of "Is it too late for me?", so I guess it counts. I have ideas for the music, but it's almost 2am here, so I'll work on it tomorrow.
I'm wavering between depression and artistic expression
I struggle to relax, then relax too much
I'm teetering on a blade
my youth's startin' to fade
Just a notebook full of illegible fragments and such
I'm wavering between destruction and inspired creation
I'm thinking that maybe it's too late
I'm mumbling and humming
anxious nothing's coming
Making music that no one will ever say is great.
Is this a distraction or joyous inception?
What becomes of a voice when it's no longer alive,
And ceases to sing
or say anything?
Will it be more than some bits on a tiny flash drive?