We’ll walk barefoot in the forest, red sun in the trees
We’ll talk of past, of future, and reasons for why we
Should escape off to a land afar,
Picking daisies from the long dead scars.
We’ll talk to the passing birds, of the world today,
Of the dusted rusting dreams and how we’ll fly away
The world from there a far off myst’ry
Forget it all, we’ll make new history.
We’ll run through the fields, of crisp burnt wheat
Refuse to submit to our loss or our defeat
We’ll find again the hidden willow tree
We’ll climb its limbs and claim we’re free
We’ll dance in the rain and silken grass
Surge through all pains that come to pass
You’ll find a way to the richness of my soul
Like a rusted key you’ve come to behold
We’ll make smoke signals with our frosted breath
You’ll trace my snowed, sun hidden back
Knowledge of the scowls waiting
Knowledge of the picture we’re painting
But it’s all worth this
One moment of unadulterated bliss
Of Sugarcane sunshine; our sweet ray of hope
