You point to the sky The sky Is reflected in your eyes And I Want to fly On a carpet of brown leaves We retrace the steps of change Construct a tapestry of what will come You point to the sea I see What seems to be so free Bound by Empty sky On a tower of gray earth Far above the spray-struck stone We climb toward the melting point of time Here we tumble down the path Comic beggars trading laughs For scraps from the tables of the wise