Hide away into the water,
Run away from the stars` sky,
Pray for sun to rise the morning,
Find out what will be our way,
It seems our time goes by to fast,
Seems our ways will never last,
Seems our days just turn and laugh,
Or so it seems,
Sleep in the mountains for a weekend,
Sit in the meadow at orange sundown,
Run through the river, through the fish around,
With offered relief from the muse
Tied up tight seem the generic,
Loose and puzzled the unusual,
Barely grasp is popularity,
Finding God is how we heal.
