He told me to focus on what is lovely, The trees are like paintings at this house.

I'd rather know rust and real, than shiny metal and deception. Manipulate the landscape, And tell me to run I would rather connect, With real ones.

Don't vilify the phone, Look in the mirror, The more you do this, Awareness becomes clearer.

& that's the feeling of living. Diving in when the rage is giving. Singing songs while the tears are flowing. Pressing on, fear of not knowing.

Tear down the red lights on the inside of us.

Just like March, I couldn't decide, March couldn't decide, Couldn't make up her mind.

There is one way, Despite what they say, It's nuanced, When interpreted by the wise. The words of old, History that's told, It's...