i awoke in the sunshine, i awoke in the moonlight

offices stacked in buildings, like bodies in the morgue, like boxes placed in storage, once useful now ignored, gathering dust and losing touch with our self-portraits stuffed in drawers: our plans

if you can hear the birds chirpin' then you've got reason to rise. well, i awoke in the morning or after staying up all night; i heard the birds chirping and watched them take flight. i thought i should fly away, but i'm still here standing. i awoke in the sunshine, i awoke in the moonlight,

beyond statistics the individual demands more, like the raven in the orchard and our buried hearts of metal distressed but not destroyed, anchored to the peaks of orange brown gold and green. the colorful flock: the pattens of wind during sunset commutes and blacktop, asphalt, crumbling social earth.

so, i 'woke in the afternoon without haste or deflection, the traffic and working whistles, the hum and buzz of progress, led by the fussing reconciliation of our seasons with the juggernaut enforcers-- bleeding meaning from life with labyrinths of labor for commercialized identity, brands of commitment without forethought of agreement.

i awoke in the evening with an anxious cold heart, then i heard the bats chirping and i've seem 'em take flight, and i thought i might fly away, but lo i'm still here. i awoke in the sunshine; i awoke in the moonlight. wake up.

wake up in the sunshine, wake up in the moonlight.
wake up and sing and dance and dream