What are we looking for, I wonder.

What is there we cannot

hope to singing find

what is this here I wonder

wonder whether truly if

all of what we wantis love.


So maybe lines move quickly on the roadside.

Childhills don't show the way

we moving on and moving on

there are such human things to find

to seeof life and death and life

his daughter plucks a single rose.

Not sad, no, it's really a release.

Not sad, a far more gentle death

I keep returning to again.

Again.again again again.

And I don't know if I can ever,

ever truly understand

why children see.She wants

to let them play togetherall

but stillI'd like to play with you.

I'd likeI hope to

sing to you. Sing songs

child, sing us too.

So listen. Fleet-foot life

Waiting. Waiting


listen to the story, here,

for this is where cicadas live

for thirteen years inside the earth,

and only waiting for the day

cicada's life will be a day

And all there is, is this:

It's so much longer than our own.


So I cried, when I watched a broken man

get on a train and leave his son

behind him. It was for the best.

I know the childwantsto let her

don't know why I couldn't do it

any of the other times.

sing us, too

I don't know why.

I know

roam us, too

know it's always hard to say

these things to someone else

and only hope they understand.

But still, I hope you understand.

And I wantto kiss the

So let me tell you a secret.sing

Someday, I'd like to learn to speak.

whisper us

Someday, all people want

Some dayis to be loved.