Little girl, can you see
the sky without a moon tonight,
the leaves beneath your feet?
With the sky, like a cape;
the earth is like a basket
and she holds you like an egg.
You’re walking like a statue,
there’s concrete in your feet.
You’re walking on the memories,
you’re walking on the leaves
The leaves are wet and squishy
like you’re walking on a heart.
The world’s drawn like a curtain;
you can’t pull it apart.
Are you blind or can’t you see
that no one walks beside you?
Are you blind or can’t you see
you’re walking all alone?
The voices that you’re hearing,
the vapors from the valley,
they’re the voices of a race that lived
a thousand years ago.
With the stars in your eyes,
would you trade them for a friend if he
could help you out tonight?
Where’s your map? Where’s your faith?
Did you really plan to make it with
a basket and a cape?
And if you reached the mountaintop
how would you recognize it
when the leaves are wet and thickened
and there’s no moon in the sky.
The trees are older brothers
with no sympathy for you.
They frown upon your wandering;
they press the sky on you.
Are you blind or can’t you see
that no one walks beside you?
Are you blind or can’t you see
you’re walking all alone?
The voices that you’re hearing,
the vapors from the valley,
they’re the voices of a race that lived
a thousand years ago.
And this could be the fairy-tale,
or this could be the end.
You quiver like a golden thread
that’s kissed upon the wind.
You reach your hand out longingly,
but ain’t nobody there.
You’re reaching out for algebra;
you’re reaching out for air.
Are you blind or can’t you see
that no one walks beside you?
Are you blind or can’t you see
you’re walking all alone?
The voices that you’re hearing,
the vapors from the valley,
they’re the voices of a race that lived
a thousand years ago.