What If Uncle Ben Had Lived
Poor Old Lu
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falling down the stairs
climb into the sea
the world is on it's hands
then it's on it's feet
touch the silent man
who cares where he goes
stand high upon his back
like the ground beneath your toes
the breeze is too much for me - anymore
(I've seen this in people who are weak)
and if I push the blade in deep
will in break inside of me
in me, in me, in me...
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reaching for a star
with my eyes dead on the floor
racing all the time
my soul can't take much more
touch the silent man
who made himself so low
will I spit on him again
and turn myself away
what more will it take
falling down the stairs
climb into the sea
the world is on it's hands
then it's on it's feet
touch the silent man
who made himself so low
make yourself as small
just He and I and all