It starts with the stretch begins at the beginning
Time takes one step down the stairs
while I awaken
I'm barely making sense and I'm faking
my fall
I skinned my knee
but not at all
Sweet child, I see your face
it looks a lot like mine
Sweet child, I see your face
it looks a lot like mine used to look
I'm timid in the fist
my fighting flight is all used up
steel skyscrapers cut my heart
as they erect and build
I used to be a boxer
high on the fight
soaked in sweat
and summertime heat
full of ashes
of defeat
I looked across the horizon
to the sinking moon
the railroad tracks
disappearing in the sun
My hands pointing toward
my friends
wide open to love and
God's changes
a handful of violets
I pray he wants to
move me.