love the run but not the race

all alone in a silent way

world drifts in and the world's a stranger



in a light, eclipsed and alienated

in a time, occupied and invaded

can't tell what's right, better hit the ground running



in the hills where the tall weed grows

hands are tied and won't let go

can't escape this place without leaving the world behind



in a light, ashamed and humiliated

in a time, sacrificed for the sake of trade

the soul is bent, feels the weight of truth

falling through

left behind, no choice but to run to the mountains

where no poppies grow, you have to hit the ground running



in a light, paralyzed and spirits fading

out of time, must decide to fall or run

into the eye, of the storm no sign or omen

make it right, or fall to the other side

where fields are burning

from the day you're born

you'll always hit the ground running