A town too small
With eyes too cold
Cloud shaped thoughts are calling me

The ol’ doug fir
He held my fear
As cloud shaped thoughts were calling me

I need to find a place to call home
The searching steers my mind
Crushed by the worry that I’ve already found it
Would I want this for my child?

A year grew old
I danced through tears
As cloud shaped thoughts followed me

The pen that hugs the page so gently paves the way
Turns out the answer doesn’t come from clinging tighter
Would I want that for my child?

The mind holds fast
And still I stay
As cloud shaped thoughts are part of me

Would I want this for my child?