There's borders between the clouds in the sky
and I wonder why the space between us
can't be as soft down here
as it is up there...

I gaze at the clouds with eyes of the guilty
ashamed we've carved up something so pretty
with cities, committees, concrete gritty
Clouds stare down with nothing but pity.

If borders that know nothing but war
could be given the serenity of the clouds or shores
your feet wouldn't bleed to claim what's yours,
to live free wouldn't be something to pay for.

When the ground mirrors the sky
and our hearts reflect July
we will all look at one another
without bordered eyes.