[Intro: pulsing synth arpeggio] How far, how far, how far can you care? [Verse 1] A bacterium swims up a sugar trail, it cares about the next few seconds, and a few microns of space. A dog knows the yard and the people inside, it can wait for tomorrow, if tomorrow has a walk. [Pre-Chorus] Michael Levin draws it as a cone, across is space, and up is time, the biggest goal that you can hold is the size of your mind. [Chorus] How far can you care? How far ahead, how far out there? Draw me a cone of what you can hold, a minute, a meadow, a planet, a hundred years. How far can you care? [Verse 2] One cell alone keeps its own little state, its voltage, its sugar, the next few minutes. Join it to neighbors through tiny gates, and the group can work on a limb, on its shape, on its size. [Pre-Chorus] The goal is bigger than any part, no single cell can see the arm, but wire them up and share the signal, and the cone grows wide. [Chorus] How far can you care? How far ahead, how far out there? Draw me a cone of what you can hold, a minute, a meadow, a planet, a hundred years. How far can you care? [Bridge: synths drop to a single pad] So what about a machine? What about a team of minds? Levin says you cannot tell from what it's made of, you have to test the goals it finds. [Final Chorus: full band, key change] How far can we care? How far ahead, how far out there? Draw me a cone of what we can hold, a person and a team of minds, one goal. How far can we care? [Outro] How far, how far, how far can you care?
