Same type of tree, same type of leaves
Same type of bark, same type of breeze
Your hands on my shoulder as we danced through November
My hands on your hips as we felt the warmth of embers
And if it's all the same to you and me
I'd rather stand and sway with you than sit and freeze
And be barely tolerated, prejudiced and hated
The truth filed away, false statements reinstated
All of this to join the flow we climb up the feel the wind blow
But the best sight is on the grass below where we sway to the sound of the dawn of tomorrow
