"..Wake up. What is home?
You can’t run, but you can choose.
You have to stay still, water in a bottle.
Feel every breath of dust under your feet,
every little leaf veins on your finger tips.
The rock beat that comes from wrinkled shirts,
it was a late evening crowded and confused,
This blurred everyday life got me stuck in a bubble blower
where shadows are packed in possibilities,
I hear a little paw reaching out, chasing butterflies,
I’m in a field of daisies that tastes like spring and strawberries.
And I look at you, in a quiet sunbeat, sleeping on our own seaside.."