Sitting in a bus, yet watching the trees, feeling the breeze
holding a phone in my hand - thinking about your smile
the noise of the motor was lulling me, like a bird would
it became part of the scene, nature by repetitive use
Technology - that weird, disconnected craft
(it also comes from our hands)
Making us lose touch, miss the beat of the eternal drum
but is it like that?

My dreams are not filled with mobile phones
but while I am awake, they help me cope
It won't save you but indeed it'll help
it's more like a prop on stage, something taking us there
like a train to meet your lover when he's not near,
like a CD to hear music that'll make you feel,
yet it is only a brazen thread,
beautiful only in the measure
that is human-made.

Connect with the Universe in strange new ways
Do not stray - hold her metallic, heavy hand
Follow the Earth - but please do take this chance
From nature you can't hide - not even with a device
Crazy how this little appendix brings me closer
by pulling a bit further