You go in when it snows, or when it rains
Or when the sun turns in - to stars at night
And in your hind sight, you think it all begins right here
And it ends well, if you fill the box up when you die
Silver slice of moon couldn't come too soon
On the crescent plain where I woke up
A frosted curling wave wants to leave me brave
Enough to sing out when I'm choked up
Oh, the sun-soaked ground... red, white, and brown
I hear a teeming sound
Of wings, seeds, spores, and chutes - on this merry-go-round
Telescoping trees watching over me
Watching butterflies breed tornadoes
Unassuming clouds, Chicken Little's shroud
Swaddles the one-time fertile cradle
Where the waters run... to the aardvark's tongue
And the monkey's gun
And my heart's next in line - to fatten the worms to come
You go in when it snows, or when it rains
Or when the sun turns in - to stars at night
And in your hind sight, you think it all begins right here