We talk about change in a series of theories
But you can't just look at your lawn
And tell it to grow into a garden
You have to understand your soil, what it has to offer and what it needs
You have to know your seeds and how they grow
And you can't look at the wounds of the broken and tell them to heal
Like you have the solution
Like there's something to know
Grief isn't looking for answers
It's looking for hope
Respect
You gotta know your history
So take a moment of silence to remember what you already know
And if you have knowledge share it but know that your questions are worth more than your answers
Our language shapes our thoughts and our thoughts shape our world
The distance between us and who we want to be is paved with apathy and greed
It's where the parasites breed
What is it that moves through you?
Because everything, every touch, every hurt, every fear, every word is true simply because it exists
You exist
Our verse carries the power of of the universe but I can't help but feel that we're doing it wrong
That too many of our words serve mainly to mislead
So take care which of the two wolves that you feed
We have a choice in how we use our voice and as for me
I am not the language on my lips, my tongue is native only to my love
I speak in syllable and sound
I have my ear to the ground
This earth is my church
Sometimes I am quiet and reverent, listening
Others I am barefoot running shouting,
Touching all the art
You'll find me praying on a mountain, kneeling in the dirt
Everywhere that I go
I am home
The more I seek, the less I know
The more I question, the more I grow
When I look up for too long, I start to itch
How can I stare into the face of infinity and not feel free?
I don't know where I found these pieces of truth that I hold
But it sure as hell wasn't by being told
So get out of that classroom for a while
This life isn't about proving that there are things that you know
That ****'s not noble
Arbitrary struggles in hopes of some uncertain future
Won't feed your soul
Stop looking for answers to fill all those holes
Carved by the fear of spinning out of control
Our people are devolving into white knuckles, short-sighted stomach knots
Dizzy and sick, so let go
Let the light shine through you and if it burns know that sometimes that's what it means to be true
We are here and that is precious
You are precious
So spin
Spin with me to the music of syllable and sound
Syllable and sound