Don't Blink (Or We May Miss It)
The very idea of beauty died so long ago
But sometimes I catch a glimpse
At the call of your name or the touch of another's hand
I see this place as Adam once saw Eden
(and I see people as Adam once saw Eve)
But gone is the garden of perfection
(the dirt we've become, not the dirt we came from)
Writer/s: Nodes of Ranvier
