Blowin’ in the wind.

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Is it without meaning,
like a desperate attempt to find one?
Or is it with hope,
like a worried errand to find the one?

Can you stop and breathe and listen to it,
for your time is tickin’?
Can’t you see that it’s in there,
desperate to be heard, alive and kickin’?

How many times should you spend yourself,
before you light up with a lookalike glee?
How many times do I need to tell you,
that you just need to, be?

The answer my friend, is blowin’ in the wind.
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.

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