Look outside the box,
look inside a church...

The last leaf withers,
cold is the mountain breeze...

Sixteen seconds till I die,
just wanna say I'm sorry for this mess...

Soft is the spark lit within,
centered in the core of my being...

It's been so long since I saw light,
I begin to think that there's just dark...

Lost in translation,
barely able to speak a word...

I drift asleep in to the vast circles of space,
alone and loathing the purpose of my existence...

Godspeed, all you walkers of dawn.
Hope the woods make more sense than the world...

We've grown tired of this house,
together we've tried all the games...

I'm waiting for the rails to talk,
as we travel the continent...

He's got to be tall if he's gonna be me,
he's got to be brave if he wants to be free...

Pete Becker made the newswire this morning,
big picture from a holiday in Sweden...