What If Uncle Ben Had Lived?

falling down the stairs
climb into the sea
the world is on it's hands
then it's on it's feet

touch the silent man
who cares where he goes
stand high upon his back
like the ground beneath your toes

the breeze is too much for me - anymore
(I've seen this in people who are weak)
and if I push the blade in deep
will in break inside of me
in me, in me, in me...

reaching for a star
with my eyes dead on the floor
racing all the time
my soul can't take much more

touch the silent man
who made himself so low

will I spit on him again
and turn myself away
what more will it take

falling down the stairs
climb into the sea
the world is on it's hands
then it's on it's feet

touch the silent man
who made himself so low
make yourself as small
just He and I and all