no one knows why we were taught to look away.nthere might be something wrong with me,nthere's nothing that I can't believe.nare you listening,n2000 miles from here?nis the same sky just as clear?nnout of the window,nthe slow light of morning.nfirst hits your hands,ntouches your face.nthough it's uncomfortable,nthough it is awkward,ndays leave the nights,neyes in the lights.nnthe only time you're listening,nwhen we run from all the things we could say.ni don't what you could be hearing,nthe sounds occurred so far, far away.nni don't know why we were taught to look away,nthere might be something wrong with me,nthere's nothing that i won't believe.nare you listening,n2000 miles from here?nare the crickets just as clear?