I can't offer you Words of comfort Promising a future of permanent flux I cannot sacrifice you a candle Cut off a rabbits foot. I do not have in my hands The egg timer tipping over sand Telling you we have the time To reach some promised land Where things are somehow better than before Where there is no disease, no hunger, no war. I can't offer you a solution To the fire in your head I cannot give you a cure for The sick the lame the dead I cannot tell you those things That open up the road: I cannot tell you how to make sure Your Prince is not a toad. I cannot tell you anything That is straight and true I cannot offer you surety: I don't know anyone that will. What I can offer you Is the nervous assertation That everything changes and Nothing stays the same. Everything ends That nothing ever stops That cold bold march of time - That there will always be dissonance Amongst the order in the rhymes. I can tell you secrets Of the naked the mortified The flesh: That it is all is much the same And same again After a time's time Pinned upon the mast. I can tell you that there will be A time to move And a time to rest, That there will be growth Amongst the chicks up in the nest. I can tell you this By the sweat upon my brow - That the sway of the hips Will be met by the waves and water and swell I cannot promise you there will be some golden shore But only that the human heart wants to be Good and sweet and pure. And if this does not comfort, If this just won't suffice, that There is the heat of the sun As surely as there is the burn of ice. Yes Everything changes. Nothing stays the same Not even in the skip and hop Of your heartbeat against Mine.