Old but Brand New

Ooh. Ooh, ooh. We are all children with secrets

to keep. Hiding the past where shadows sleep. Futures we bury

in the dust of our feet. Perfect in the mirror, perfect in the

shell, but what are the whispers that never tell? We are our

own children running in circles. Time's a straight line, but it folds,

it hurdles. Keeping the spirit, keeping it fueled. We are our own children,

old but brand new. Whoo! History's a needle threading through bone.

We patch up the fabric yet still feel alone. Our hands write the future