Everybody hurts sometimes,
in the grip of a hasty ciphers.
Decisions sometimes leave me
not but some survivor.
I hear of the chasms deep calm,
under rock and stone ponds.
We are connected and collected
together in the great beyond.
Tell of the windows to a soul
I am sometimes out of control.
But the things that bring Spring
in my seasons I now console.
I evict here now this ring of hurt;
forever I have had it I try cope
with the little things I bring
with me the antidote.
When hurt blinds me fast
I’ll remember my place
here above the atmosphere
you’ll see the tears fall from space.
Speaking In Tongues 