

{Rich, resonant acoustic guitar
picking
intertwined with a low,
comforting cello drone} Lighting up a cigarette
outside the front door frame,
Laughing with Jordan at the irony of the game.
You gotta step beyond the walls to feel the summer heat,
To know what living feels like underneath your feet.
Inside the box is freezing,
a safety-net routine, While outside is the forest where the wild things
used to green. {A gentle,
building foot-stomp percussion and shimmering mandolin accents} We build our little containers
just to keep the chill away,
Trading open canopies for a rectangular day.
Oh, the box is just a construct,
a fortress in the dark,
We draw our shiny silver swords and look for any spark!
Is happiness a wanderer or hiding in the frame?
We're all just trying to figure out the rules of this old
game. Outside we breathe the smoke and fire,
inside we try to rest,
And Joan says that somehow God is always for the best :)
If sustainability's a dream the blueprints tried to sell,
Why do we build our safety in an insulated cell?
Raw emotional devotion cutting straight across the doubt,
Trying to trace the perimeter of what it's all about.
We left the ancient timber for a roof above our head,
Now we pace our quiet cages wondering where the wildness fled.
{Instruments drop out to a sparse,
beautiful acoustic arpeggio and intimate close-mic vocals} The forest doesn't ask you
for a permit or a key,
It just grows without a blueprint,
wild and fiercely free.
Can you live a life that's long
if you never touch the breeze?
Can you find a quiet soul
when you're trapped behind the trees?
{A massive, cinematic swell of strings and driving acoustic percussion kicks in}
We hold our swords up high,
but the battle's in our head...
*(Soaring, emotional string arrangement clashing
with driving, rhythmic
acoustic strumming)*
Oh, the box is just a construct,
a fortress in the dark,
We draw our shiny silver swords and look for any spark!
Is happiness a wanderer or hiding in the frame?
We're all just trying to figure out the rules of this old
game. Outside we breathe the smoke and fire,
inside we try to rest,
And Joan says that somehow God is always for the best :)
{Acoustic guitars slowing down into a warm,
fading ambient hum} Tiguidou...
Next cycle open. {Final resonant acoustic chord dissolving into absolute peace}