We keep looking on the outside
for things we can never find.

We keep looking on the outside
drifting with the tides.

We keep searching wide through giant vines
looking for a spirit guide,

swimming hard in wild tides torn up as a blind child.

Yet stop fast, looking back
over all of life's path.

What are manly men ? Strong ?
Or dead afraid of being wrong-

looking for a wild ride
to cover up the crying child.

Ground down, lick death
feel your wounds and breath in

ground in, pass beyond-
life is just the spirit's dawn.

Live long.