What's true of most things?
I don't know, so I'm asking
Where to go when one's casting their line?
Those are questions of mine
What time in the first place?
I've been kicking around about two decades
I've gotten used to the sound of those sweet cicada songs
I couldn't tell you which ones
So which tune comes to mind now?
When you wake or when you wind down
Sure, the flame wanes but it won't go right out until
The plight gets its fill
So from which place are you coming?
You can't keep it real if you come in judging
You can't take the wheel just to prove something
You'll see
That's no way to be
It's understood that one needs patience
To overcome these constant changes
Act like a weed
You're so invasive and wild
That's hard to reconcile
How, why am I wishing?
When it's so, so unforgiving
Where is what I'm missing?
And which way there is it, talking or listening?