I steer with one hand
tapping gently along
with the steady rhythm
of the stereo
Heavy heads rest
on cool glass
as the night shows us
time is trivial
All things, they pass away
into the night
It's funny how all the friends that surround
are calling back to us
When we are back
we won't be weary
The food that we pack
will not fade out very soon
That's the theory
If we make a circle from the sky
It won't mean the string is tied too tight
Steady my hands, troubled by the faithful sun
that chases us
Quiet demands, tossed from the moon man
so envious
View not the burning fuel
as squandered funds,
Not as the ruin of nature, our home,
our home
This is the chance
life has been planning
to lose for us
It relies on our plans
and our presumptions
to destroy us
