Apple Tree

God is probably not real
But I can understand how he must make you feel
I've been so afraid to grasp it
Something's here, so what the fuck is happening

There's a town hall in my head
It's all tinted glass, and pounding fists on the podium
I see routine burning in my mind
It's catching fire all the time

Did you pick your family
Which branch you sprouted on, or which apple tree
Did you pick your home
Or were you Sylvia Plath, just freakin out cause the ovens on

I could have been Ted Bundy
If I just had a different mom
Or Freddie Gray, or Macy Gray, or Lao Tzu
Each life in servitude, to the face I'd be livin' through

From your room across the hall, you swear you saw the sun
Creep across your window pane like a snail
Caught every ray in a mason jar and tossed it on the shelf
With a million more, your stories all about yourself

But give it time, cause every night's a heist
That pacific thief always steals the light
We'll be blind, Oh, we'll be unified
Won't be you and I, won't be you and I

We've all learned who we are
Who to hate, and what to find bizarre
A beginners mind is freedom from your enemies
Just sweep the floor. Just sweep the floor

I'm content to watch the river flow
Left at the sycamore, right at the stone
She'll bloom just like a choir when she crashes with sea
She'll be unified. Oh, she'll be unified