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Out of reach, lying on a beach near a galaxy elsewhere |
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Combing through sands with two empty hands here |
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As long as more seeds sprout and then grow, so will all our love |
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And if the climate changes then we'll also do so |
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Long lost friends after the road ahead bends again |
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You're still with me in June and July on warm starlit nights my friends |
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Skipping stones on the lake of mirrored space and landscapes miles in the distance |
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And we're all a bit stoned miles away |
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And as long as both of the poles stay frozen, flow the river of our blood |
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Cause as the time changes so will the path we've all chosen |
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And over rippling mountains afternoon thunder storms form |
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Later all of the sky will clear up, stars will appear and they'll make night light |
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Don't get sucked into the empty or forever be where you are too far out of reach |
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I am a working man, I've lived a long day using my hands |
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My Dad is a working man, he's lived for a long life providing for his family and |
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My Mom was a working woman, she worked her hands to the bone, to the grave to meet our ends |
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And as long as more seeds sprout and then grow |
