Staring out the window pane Seeing through yourself Counting your blessings again Wondering when it will be And how it can be then See the warnings of a storm As patterns unfold themselves To try and be whole
Is this too much to ask To live free with a quiet mind And trust in someone else I want to believe in the sun Who in all its splendor is dying I desire the solidness of earth This ground is still shaking apart What will be, will be