Creativity leaking from the tips of finger prints
Left behind, smooth surfaces
Of terracotta earthy dirt
Light dust hovering in the air
And I feel at home
Curvy shapely women
Who turns to tangled tree
Rising from the handful
Of earthy dirt
Singing about mother earth
Making something so sure
On purpose
Feels so monumental
And I feel at home
In the space I create
With just a fist full of dirt
I can change the world
Form it to the shape
That best fits what we need
And I know I am at home