You ask why these words, are all stories of my days
Never seeming to look around, at the World and all it's ways
Yet this plan you say is yours, leaves only one road to take
But each must find his own, for something's got to break

Take a look around, and see what's happening
Take a look around, can't you see what's happening?

And how can I curse someone else's distant war
Until I find my own peace, and anger is no more
How can I cry for the hungry, and scorn the other's greed
Until I eat nothing, but the little I really need

This future you say is near, leaves nothing much to find
But the moment holds enough, without living on borrowed time
So now that I have told you, are my reasons all that clear?
For the words my tongue has spoken, are not the words you hear