Only four years have come to pass
Still the boy keeps on dreaming
about a vision that he had
Lamenting soul, he wonders reason
Tricycle wheel was spinning before him
Silver spokes and a golden hub
The rim was broken and black
And on the spokes
he saw so many people
Toward the center
Some were climbing
Others sliding
Never hiding what they felt
And in the middle, if they'd reach it
They'd take some time
to teach it to a friend
Never right but never wrong
and always strong
It won't be long until the end
Now the boy is lost at twenty
He fell some time ago
Heard the word and yet he kept it
And ran away
And he wants so much to share it
Listen people, do you think
you can hear it now?
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