The moment has passed, but it still is not too late
To forsake the greatly separated paths we've chose to take
Cutting off to the clearing forged, by feet, of matted grasses
Trailing round the pines and oak, whom fragrantly halt attachment
But their sight, so tall, and woody scent so strong and pleasant
Distracts us from the task we try to hold here at the present
But we soldier on, and wavering dodge all obstacles we see
So that "me" "myself" and "I", through "Us" can become "We"

Parallel paths given life from what we've made
Forming lines into a grid, all paths for everyone to take
Whats yours is mine and hers and his and continued making, still
Forever all of ours, our experience, free will.