I am not a machine with a full tank of gas
I am a human being with limits, and food is not just fuel.
I need nourishment of all sorts to be fully alive.

Sometimes all I see are empty eyes in this urban jungle
that I call home, even though my heart belongs in Appalachia.
I am a mountain boy away from my true home.

I long to feel the morning fog roll in,
and hear the songs of the cicadas.
I love seeing fireflies in the summer time,
and the feel of a summer rain coolin' my skin.

I am not a machine,
a thing to be valued merely based on
production and function.

I have value, because I have life coursing through me,
and I sing the song of the Creator in my soul.

It's 7 a.m.
I can still feel you in my bones
It's been months, years
Hundreds of thousands of days
But it's nights like this I can't help but remember
The way you touched me, it made me feel like there were butterflies hatching under my skin
Trying to escape
I used to think they were trying to fly to you
But now I know they were trying to get home
You made the trapped parts of me rise to the surface
The parts I had buried deep in the depths of my soul
In a place where nobody could ever reach them
The thorns in the maze of my heart had kept my secrets safe
Until you woke them up
But I realized that you couldn't set my butterflies free
I had to do that myself
Oh and it's been years or pain and torture and trying to win you back
You woke me up, but you could never set me free
And now, after all this time
I've finally figured out that I'm the only one who can help my butterflies get home

When I think of you
I want to send praise to the heavens
I want to raise every mountain on this benevolent earth to the skies
Because it even for one second let me experience
The place you hold in it.

When I think of you
I want to rage at the heavens
I want to raze every mountain on this spiteful earth to the ground
Because it even for one second let you think
You had no place in it.

When I think of you
Lately
I seem to want a lot of things.