We talk so much that sometimes we forget
the value of words. It's all been said before
(we're all echoes, echoes)
and so the empty voices fall around us
muffling our meaning.
We walk centuries deep
in words, so many words,
so many syllables.
Sound travels, and on a clear night
you can hear the whispers
of a thousand years ago.
Here on still days the world is thick
with unsaid speeches, words on the tips
of our tongues. All we are is words
and yet there's
never enough words for all the things
we need to say.
