There is no comfort in truth
You’re not alone until you are the last
But if you’re not enough
The future flies past
And it’s not what you do
or who you do it to
or how you do it with how many
it’s just who you are
and if beyond the scar
your ideals hold if you have any
Would this get lost in junk?
Is this a dangerous ear?
Will lives we wreck be back?
Will we be toasty ’til spring?
Is this ear listening?
Is this brain plotting
or too dark for spotting?
Hell, does a river bend?
Could there be reason to sing?
You run away to return
Too near the fire? You burn
In the water you drown
and from the air you fall down
And it’s not what you think
red blue black or pink
or how you stick it to the many
it’s just who you are
and if beyond the scar
your ideals hold if you have any
Don’t think at war, John –
think befóre war.
Age is just a number
and genius is a gift
But promise is a grift
And luck is known to shift
It’s what you do
not what you say
a leak without a bucket
every day
and if you may add to the fray
then let it be to save the planet anyway
or, if you please, world peace.