The way I see it,
you can’t be too hopped up on hope.
Or you’d start falling through the I want’s of things
upward, and never come home.
You see, sometimes
a tree’s a tree, and it’s got no fingers.
And even if it did they wouldn’t point upward.
And even if they pointed up there isn’t a God.
Sometimes you have to let it go, sometimes
you just sit, and the sitting’s all there is.
And you don’t get up,
and there’s no hope to hop up for,
and it’s okay ‘cause this is home and why
would you want to leave us? Anyway,
that’s the way I see it. So don’t go