Everyone’s got a big idea. Sometimes two. Everyone’s figured it out, posted the answer on Facebook, talked it up with friends, scribbled on a protest sign.
Everyone’s found peace, found calm, sought the wind. It’s what we’re made of, it’s how we do. Everyone eats, prays and loves.
So, I’ve got to believe, that even the worst are good at heart, down deep, made of good stuff. I have to believe this to be true. I have to believe.
Underneath it all, we’re just trying to kill the squeaker.