Maybe there's no answer here At least one we're ready to hear No string of words will satisfy No simple equation to edify you Here, in the meantime May questioning nurture life Fear is illogical math An impractical skill to have Still we talk of our future til we have no voice We'll try to outsmart it with noise But here in the meantime May the unknown harvest life We're conditioned to mourn our empty glass Long before it ever poured out our past Though patience is always short in supply We'll leave our farsighted worries behind Here in the meantime In the gospel of nearsight May we learn to live a nourished life.