Wind (Interlude)

[Spoken Word]

This is wind

Like "Wind," wind

The turbulence of it all, the

Subtle breeze, it becomes the wolf's call

Howling through our settled home

Crackin' our communications, elevating our tone

No longer a gentle whisper

The ground moves, the flame dies

We still film, we take pictures

Unoriginal, as our smiles become filters

'Cause digital roses don't die

[Flute Instrumental]