Friday, April 23, 2004


To look at the sky, broad and blue, and think of flying.
We are apes with metal wings.
The hope of freedom, of better times, is relief from the fear of here.
Escaping, running away, to find a dream that puts the soul at ease.
In a car, in a train, in a plane, we feed our animal need to flee.
While we can still run away, we still feel safe.
We do the car, the train, the plane,
Over and over and over again,
Burning oil, burning up the planet,
So we can still feel safe.
When we arrive there, we find what we had here,
The same cages, the same walls are there.
The same corporations, the same mankind pen you in.
The wilderness is gone, so we must travel constantly and never arrive.

When they take away our car, our train, our plane,
No longer knowing how to fight,
Like running prey finally trapped,
There will be a terror so paralysing,
Freezing like the gazelle waiting for the big cat to sink its jaws into the neck,
Frozen, waiting for the predator to take us,
Waiting, afraid to look,
where, who, is that big cat?
Or if it is a wolf,
What sheep are we?

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