I’m sending out a signal.
It’s floating through the air.
A balloon that sadly lost it’s child’s hand.
I’m broadcasting a message.
I’m begging you to hear.
I’m asking you to try to understand.
If we all just took a day
to believe in what we say,
or a day to only say what we believe.
If we treated people well,
not for Heaven or for Hell,
but so our hearts would never have to grieve.
Would someone understand?
Would they offer you their hand?
Would they tell you that it all will be okay?
‘Cause we scare ourselves to death
and we need to take a breath
or we’ll find that there is nothing left to save.
If you knew it would work out,
if you knew without a doubt,
would you give yourself completely to the cause?
If you knew we could be saved,
would we quit with all the graves?
Or would we only do it for applause?
Can we do this for ourselves?
‘Cause we’ve created our own Hell
and no savior will correct mistakes we’ve made.
See, I really think we can.
I think there’s kindness left in man,
and I know it’s worth the time to try to save.
I’m kind of stricken by the image of a balloon that has lost its child. There’s a metaphor for you. Good stuff!
i’m still heartbroken over the clown pupet i lost as a child. his name was jo-jo. : (