Cortés

I want to be Cortés and burn my ships
Behind me, force myself to conquer, win
Without another choice, declare from lips
Dried in the ocean air, above the din
Of fellow travelers that I will take
The risks I need to make the world quake.

Half-measures aren't the pathway to success --
The jungles must be lit by fires we set.
For then we'll find our fortunes will be blessed
When on ourselves we've made the greatest bet.
No doubt his men thought he had gone insane,
But Cortés had a continent to gain.

Cortés chose either death or victory --
And yet we fear the smallest money lost
To risk. Yet risk is how we become free --
The path to freedom always has its cost --
You must give in to all of life's demands
And fear not making tracks upon her sands.