3 years have already gone by

Sometimes I am hit by the splendor of things
And the tragedy
And they often conflict with the idealistic ideas that I hold so dear
How can I stand when I am so very small?
How can I breath when the air is so tall?

Then the clocks break down as clouds explode in the sky
And the wind is a parade as I discover I can fly
But the dirt is quicksand that sucks on my feet
Pulling off my sneakers and soaking my socks
My ankles are chilled, I am grounded, shut down, locked

So I'll break bottles until I see God in the flash
And I'll twist off apples from the old tree out back
I will wash my dirty clothes in cold water so clean
And live in hope of meeting someone who knows exactly what I mean