peace doesn’t go on sale

There’s no price tag on peace There’s no price tag on peace no price tag on peace Peace doesn’t go on sale doesn’t go on sale Peace doesn’t go on sale Peace is never on sale Everything falls back to earth, to the original I am the link, between past and present, the voice of grief, the spirit of gratitude. I do not belong where I was born, I was the wrong one, but here, in the wild, the free, where flowers grow without permission. Where meerkats are allowed to live. I am. To dare to know grief is to have depth. It is beautiful when the past is remembered and honored, they said. You have become modern, I managed to say it. The word everlasting is your garden. There is no price tag on peace no price tag on peace Peace is never on sale never on sale You can’t put a price on peace can’t put a price It never comes discounted never comes discounted There’s no price tag on peace Peace doesn’t go on sale Peace is never on sale We are small, trivial things, insects in the ear of the world. “Listen, there is a voice, that doesn’t use words – listen”. We live in the echo, and the echo is everything. Did you remember to say thank you? Everything falls back to earth, to the original. Everything falls back... To the original.