I sit here and play in the sunshine coming through my window.
I look behind me on the indian blanket and I see my shadow.
When the sun shines on me will I see my shadow?
If the look reveals a need to change, will I let go?
There is a city with broken sidewalks right outside my window
and crippled people stumble on the cracks where the grass
struggles to the grow.
If I am given the seed for a new city will I let it grow?
If to build that city I must give up all I have, will I let it go?
There is a city with no sidewalks right outside my window
and her children swim in a river where the tree of healing grows . . .
Written 1/16/92 All Rights Reserved – from the Traume album