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Inspired by Walking Far From Home by Iron and Wine.

I see people who are walking, on the sidewalks alone,
or young mothers with strollers.
They look cheerful, full of purpose,
and the sun is bright blazing,
while the wind whispers hotter.

There are flowers that are blooming,
and the birds keep on singing,
the birds keep on singing,
"The winter is now over,
the winter is now over; are you lonely?
Are you looking for love?
Are you looking for shiny things,
looking for shining things?"

I see people who are running, on the sidewalks alone,
glad that winter is over, but they are not smiling.
I see people who are running and listening to music,
listening to music. They are determined.

I see people walking dogs who are on leashes,
but the dogs are not happy, the dogs are not happy.
They look thirsty, thirsty for rivers and running in sunshine.
Sometimes they are barking or tired of their leashes.
The dogs are all sizes, all shapes and all colors,
on the sidewalks, like the people, like the people walking.

I see people in a hurry, they don't see the bright flowers,
they don't hear the birds singing, or colored dogs barking,
but they must get to work and they must get to work.
They carry babies, sleeping babies in blankets,
and food for the day in red coolers,
or backpacks of burdens, oh, backpacks of burdens.

I see people walking, dressed for the summer
yet tired in the morning, so tired in the morning.
And the birds keep on singing,
the birds keep on singing,
"The cold winter is over, the dark winter is over;
Are you lonely?
Are you looking for shining things,
looking for shiny things?"

I see people riding bikes to the train station,
bikes to the grocery store, bikes to the barber shop.
They are here for the freedom, here for a better life,
just like we and our parents and grandparents,
yet their birds are in cages, their birds are in cages.

I go walking, when the moon is half full, and barefooted,
but not on the sidewalk, no, not on the sidewalk.
I feel lonely, looking for shiny things, looking for shining things.

The birds in the trees and the caged ones sing,
"It's morning for everyone, do you hear us?
mourning for everyone, though the sky is still dark enough,
for the last lingering stars to be counted as shiny things,
for the fade of the moonlight and dawn's sparkling dew
to be shining things." And I listened to every song,
listened to every song.

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