in turbulent times we dream of blue skies and hope that x marks the spot
before the next storm hits the news, we could use a moment to dry off
if you asked the wood it would likely say to you i’ve always been free
maybe they believe that we won’t notice the lights slowly stopped working
we are the flower behind a broken wire fence that we can escape
on the horizon there appears to be a threat we could ignore it
we tend to protect the wheel when the bicycle is what’s important
each storm is unique but for one small exception they all blow over
unless we erase the blackboard from time to time nothing will be clear
it was a loud crash the tree fell in the forest but nobody heard
uptown jack 