How could you be the foolish type?
Faith is kept by land waters skies and their childs who walk a lonely mile.
Some are sharp and the others dull.
You could still lose a finger full of your life with the dullest knife.
I've got a dream I'm a victim of the sun.
For those who don't believe their days are done.
Nature will win but we keep on fighting it.
All things will pass and fertilize their grounds so they keep on keeping on.
Whether I was ever here or not life will grow and death will rot as we try to cut it down to size.
Human monuments will be destroyed by the things that grow from the soil underneath our only mortal feet.
Tree trunks feel some pain from the ax that chops them.
The wind of opportunity has a window that stops it.
Piles of stuff all over this land put there by foot and hand of human who also takes through sand should use those feet and hands to climb the trees around us and love on Mother Earth cause she's the one who grounds us. And I've got that dream we're all victims of the sun.