And what’s inside, it’ll unfold.
Awake from your dream.
You will get up and walk.
Come out from the cloth and the pigment
and be what you are.
Down comes the rain, now we all look the same.
Colors wash down the drain to the gutter.
Down comes the rain, to wash out all the pain
from a world plagued with badges and borders.
The rise and collapse of the old wave.
Goodbye to the colors of hell.
The world we grieve, it never was pure or perfect.
But I still believe there’s more to us than we detect.
Existing in the present moment.
Is it all we have?