We all lean a little off plum
Swaying to the music
of a manipulating song.
Songs played on
jukeboxes for profit
Songs leading us like sheep
to green pastures to fatten us,
Drunk on the elixirs of illusion
Ready to follow the wrong God home
Sliding from off plum to crazy

It’s a struggle to keep from being
overwhelmed by the tribe.
Being yourself is harsh living
You will be lonely, frightened,
and tossed around
Yet, no price is to high for the
privilege of finding yourself.

A cycle of rain and nitrogen
And everything looks a lot like mud
But that's where the stuff grows you know
Where the ancients have fallen
Cause here's a place too sow seeds you see
To spread your wings and fall over and over again
Rest easy
Crash your waves
Flood the sky
Sink into the earth
As here's a place made for no mortal
That's why the sun and stars came to play