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Budo - Fremont

We all get lost mistake the purpose for the goal
And we grow old Yes we grow old
Time stops with the little line drawn in the sand
Dividing what we want to see from how it is
Lifting up we climb the mountains in out minds
And we grow tired yes we grow tired
If our eyes could talk they would tell us to slow down
They would tell us not to believe in what they see

Stare so hard at what we want
We see the finger as the moon
And we lose sight of how it feels to be alive
So rest your hand and let the moon become your guide
Instead of ??? how it feels to be alive
The finger on the moon
The finger on the moon

Tracing lines on the steep atlas
We find comfort in these roads we walked before
But they’re just memories
They are just compasses and signs
?That need a straw?

Stare so hard at what we want
We see the finger as the moon
And we lose sight of how it feels to be alive
So rest your hand and let the moon become your guide
Instead of ??? how it feels to be alive
The finger on the moon
The finger on the moon