love the run but not the race   all alone in a silent way   world drifts in and the world's a stranger      in a light, eclipsed and alienated   in a time, occupied and invaded   can't tell what's right, better hit the ground running      in the hills where the tall weed grows   hands are tied and won't let go   can't escape this place without leaving the world behind      in a light, ashamed and humiliated   in a time, sacrificed for the sake of trade   the soul is bent, feels the weight of truth   falling through   left behind, no choice but to run to the mountains   where no poppies grow, you have to hit the ground running      in a light, paralyzed and spirits fading   out of time, must decide to fall or run   into the eye, of the storm no sign or omen   make it right, or fall to the other side   where fields are burning   from the day you're born   you'll always hit the ground running