washed up on the shore we see one life being passed onto another
every day breaks in its own unique way, yet we start them the same
give in to the urge tuck your nose under your paw and drift off to sleep
with a closer look we see that the most simple is anything but
just like the flower in order to receive light one must be open
we feel the struggle of the flower in the crack but the plant doesn’t
they didn’t use tools but that doesn’t mean that we are any more safe
we build with straight lines because we want things simple which nature does not
unless we have hope we would never bait a hook and cast out our line
everything seems just a little bit softer in the blue hours
uptown jack 