Fire burning on the horizon.
Rising smoke eclipsing the sun
riding on the wind without an aim.
If nothing changed, it wouldn't be the same.

How many words can you fit into your mind
telling you what you'll lose, what you'll leave behind?
You're tearing out your roots trying to find food
but it'll be much sweeter if you wait for the fruit.

How many days can you fit into your life
sitting in a sweaty room trying to stay on time?
Are you losing your days in the arms of the night?
When the stars are all shining are you bathing in the light?

How many times have you sat in reverie
rejoicing in the moment and letting it be?
Lately I've been thinking how I seem
to only be as real as the eddy of a stream.

Fire burning on the horizon.
Rising smoke eclipsing the sun
riding on the wind without an aim.
If nothing changed, it wouldn't be the same.