We'd been talking all day,
And we bathed and ate supper
And now we paused for a breath,
And we acknowledged certain death
And the size, and the possibility, of living thusly.
I'm standing with my microphone before you all,
You're looking right at me,
(You can scoot yourself closer)
And why, why did we come here?
Someone made posters,
We called for directions,
So we relax our muscles,
And I sing the same air as you
Yhese words are the air you breathe
You are looking right at me,
And our bodies sit firmly
On a ground that's still churning.
And there's a rumble so deafening,
And there's a roar from above -
The squealing of love.
And there's a crashing in the branches,
And there's bass drums with dances,
And there's a hissing on the freeway,
And a whistle in the crevice.
The quiet hum of the moon,
We all hum like that soon.
We're here to listen.
We're here to listen.