Time flies over everything. The sun is the moon and the stars.
I force myself to awaken to the song of everything. I have been
moved by things that come before me. There is a snake,
crying in the grass. Her babies have been smothered by
the land. She is crying for revenge, and the Indian hears her cry.
She slithers across the land, trying to find hope in the wilderness.
The tall grass, the bumpy mounds, the fat old groundhog
chittering away before wintertime comes.
The sun rises over the sky like a big goldfish bowl.
Temptation begins where hope ends. The Indians travel by foot,
even though they have cars-Rolls Royce, Volkswagen, Honda.
Those are the cars of future's past. In the end, time changes,
everything changes. Nothing remains the same.