You are the chosen one.

I hear violins.

You have work to do. You have work to do.

Little big voices tell me so. There’s a rythem.

There’s a rythem.

See the thread as it floats on by. We will never be here again.

never be here again.

And everything I’m saying isn’t really anything.

But you have to LISTEN.


I am everywhere and nowhere. Everywhere and nowhere.


The little boys are cutting down the trees.

It’s almost too late. Grab the thread before it

slips away.