everything we do is masked by love. the bums in central park are hidden by doves. and to think that we were once afraid to hold hands without wearing gloves. i may not be anyone's knight in shining armor but i'm a farmer in a room full of politicians. always running for something and away from their inhibitions. well i reach out to mine in a powerful embrace. they hit me in the stomach and i give them my face. in the land of the blind where the man with one eye will rule, i invite him to a subversive duel: self-knowledge versus self-doubt. i challenge the warthog to see himself through his own snout. in time you will find that the climate you hate and the climb you will make has been within you all along.
if i would have been there singing "da da da da"
