| Today, you don’t have to be a soldier | 
| Don’t have to be a soldier, stand down | 
| It’s okay to be as you were | 
| Be as you were again | 
| Is it a scheme? | 
| Is it a vision? | 
| Is it a dream? | 
| Is it a nightmare? | 
| Or is it a competition, and if it is, what if we don’t fight fair? | 
| What’s bald in the morning, but in the evening has white hairs? | 
| What’s the cause of Global Warming, and could it be these things right here? | 
| I got an idea that might not reach anyone for another light year | 
| Got a hit list and a cloud of witnesses, which is pricier? | 
| Well my tears are mightier than my fears, so mighty Earth | 
| Provides me hurt that I keep buried until I convert it to writing | 
| I was wounded, I was injured, I was made to move to Denver | 
| I was taken through a new adventure, paint stripped from its first fixture | 
| I was placed in another picture, I was rushed to a new landscape | 
| And ripped away from family scraped into a politician’s mistake | 
| And what’s left of talents in chests beneath oceans | 
| Welled up behind eyelids has yet to be salvaged | 
| A world of emotions, a guess that it might be okay | 
| That it could be alright, if expressed | 
| Today, you don’t have to be a soldier | 
| Don’t have to be a soldier, stand down | 
| It’s okay to be as you were | 
| Be as you were again | 
| Am I a woman-raised man-machine damaging everything | 
| I touch by not caring enough or too much? | 
| Am I a far-flung fantasy setting free enmity | 
| And making friends from enemies and bridges for the in-betweens? | 
| For the highwayman on the low road | 
| The tired back with a large load | 
| The trials spanned 'til I found hope | 
| And I found more when I slow-moed | 
| Enough of the back to face front | 
| Let those in the pack of the race run | 
| I’m needing an evener pace, one | 
| Too hasty makes mistakes | 
| Can you carry a song as strong as your arms | 
| Can bear that you keep from harm? | 
| And it will be there when you go wrong | 
| Make a heart from your bond, your treasure’s right here | 
| And what’s left of talents in chests beneath oceans | 
| Welled up behind eyelids has yet to be salvaged | 
| A world of emotions, a guess that it might be okay | 
| That it could be all right if expressed today | 
| Today you don’t have to be a soldier | 
| Don’t have to be a soldier, stand down | 
| It’s okay to be as you were | 
| Be as you were again |