we all slowly drift apart
like the stars and dark matter
but i am my father's hands
pushing forward some sort of plan
if everyone that came before
has a hand in what's in store
then my actions reach back far
it always gets most light before the dark
oh, what if i, was a wind tossed black sailed ship
would you wait———or jump into the foamy waves
the stars would shine because
they couldn't help the thought
that they simply had no choice
to shine dim and rejoice
we all swim towards a distant shore
through the things we must endure
without a hand to guide
or a neighbor to confide
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