We Are The Echo Of The Future.

I Say To My Breath Once Again, Little Breath Come From In Front Of Me, Go Away Behind Me, Row Me Quietly Now, As Far As You Can, For I Am An Abyss That I Am Trying To Cross.

We Are Asleep With Compasses In Our Hands.

My Words Are The Garment Of What I Shall Never Be Like The Tucked Sleeve Of A One-armed Boy.

From What We Cannot Hold The Stars Are Made.

The Moment We Turn Over The Soil We Start Poisoning It And We Go On Poisoning It All The Way Through... And There's Probably Not A River In The United States That Doesn't Have Pesticide Poisoning In It. The Fish Are Dying. The Seas Are Getting Polluted. All Of These Things Are Happening. The Rain Forests Are Going. That's What The Context Is.