You take it for granted that things are The way they seem. And from the first glance you're aware Of what is real. All the letters tell a story about a Content you can't see. Take a closer Look at the way You do perceive. And you're holding on to things That you have done. But who are you When all your work is gone? And you're acting like you're Always on the run. But you're a buried seed That has never seen the sun. Take that for granted: If there's one thing that is real. It's the moon shine, It's this velvet tender fell, It's the wind that slowly carries Colored autumn leaves. Well this is waiting for the ones Who do perceive. And you're holding on to things That you have done. But where are you When all your work is done? And you're acting like you're Always on the run, But linger on And try to see the sun. The wind blows through The meadows and the sun Is waiting for the ones Who'd like to come. And even if you're Always on the run, Linger on And try to see the sun.