I am not who you think I am
I am just downloading satellites
Who I am, comes from somewhere else
I am a mere result of purpose and time
but I do understand why we look at lights in the sky and want to bask in the warmth of their shine.

Always remember if you hold a light bulb
Your hand obstructs what they are capable of

We could be children in a field dancing through the flowers
But we spend that time worrying about when the field gets plowed
Assuming that things won't stay the way they are
Our hearts are made of strings and we tear them apart
When we should be plucking those strings like a harp
We should be enjoying the music
rather than scared of its undoing