A town too small With eyes too cold Cloud shaped thoughts are calling me The ol’ doug fir He held my fear As cloud shaped thoughts were calling me I need to find a place to call home The searching steers my mind Crushed by the worry that I’ve already found it Would I want this for my child? A year grew old I danced through tears As cloud shaped thoughts followed me The pen that hugs the page so gently paves the way Turns out the answer doesn’t come from clinging tighter Would I want that for my child? The mind holds fast And still I stay As cloud shaped thoughts are part of me Would I want this for my child?