but we can still choose
to walk around and listen—
when we can still talk
and sing about
the extent of the doubt
and mistrust we must be oozing—
when it seems like there is
no room left
for the size of the thoughts
we must keep holding in,
but there are still open windows,
mellow sun, cooling rain,
and soft wind blowing—
when we can still talk
and sing about
the extent of the doubt
and mistrust we must be oozing—
when it seems like there is
no room left
for the size of the thoughts
we must keep holding in,
but there are still open windows,
mellow sun, cooling rain,
and soft wind blowing—
it must stand
to reason: who needs touch,
as long as there still
is feeling?