From the recording What We Are, What We Are Not


There’s an icicle melting, wondering “where’d it all go?”
A temperature swearing that it doesn’t know,
A wild wind whipping yearning for rest.
A dried out river bed, hoping for the best.

There’s me and there’s you and there’s all of this change.
The three of us sitting here, trying to rearrange:
What we had in mind and what we actually got.
What we are, what we are not.

A tropical storm needs some more space.
A cliff that’s self conscious, such a rocky face.
The leaves have decided to stick with the trees.
Polar bear wintering down in the Keys.

There’s an old hill feeling stuck,
Lonely and down on its luck.
The clouds that once shaded it drifted too far.
Here’s hoping they're happy wherever they are.

Spinning planet, dizzy from the ride,
Calls it an evening, lets out the tide.
Sun slowly setting, warm in its blanket,
Scans the horizon for whatever sank it.