If I could be you And you could be me For just one hour If we could find a way To get inside Each other’s mind, mmm If you could see you Through your eyes Instead of your ego I believe you’d be Surprised to see That you’d been blind, mmm
Walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes Hey, before you abuse, criticize and accuse Walk a mile in my shoes
Now your whole world You see around you Is just a reflection And the law of karma Says you’re gonna reap Just what you sow, yes you will So unless You’ve lived a life of Total perfection You’d better be careful Of every stone That you should throw, yeah
And yet we spend the day Throwing stones At one another ‘Cause I don’t think Or wear my hair The same way you do, mmm Well I may be Common people But I’m your brother And when you strike out And try to hurt me It’s a-hurtin’ you, lord have mercy
Walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes Hey, before you abuse, criticize and accuse Walk a mile in my shoes
There are people On reservations And out in the ghettos And brother there But for the grace of God Go you and I, yeah, yeah If I only Had the wings Of a little angel Don’t you know I’d fly To the top of the mountain And then I’d cry
Walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes Hey, before you abuse, criticize and accuse Better walk a mile in my shoes
Walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes Uh, before you abuse, criticize and accuse Walk a mile in my shoes, yeah
She is reaching out her arms tonight,
Lord, my poverty is real
I pray roses shall rain down again,
from Guadalupe on her hill
and who am I to doubt these mysteries?
Cured in centuries of blood and candle smoke
I am the least of all your children here,
but I am most in need of hope.
She appeared to Juan Diego,
she left her image on his cape
five hundred years of sorrow,
cannot destroy their deepest faith
so here I am, your ragged disbeliever,
old doubting Thomas drowns in tears
as I watch your church sink through the earth,
like a heart worn down through fear
Music is your own experience,
your own thoughts,
your wisdom.
If you don’t live it,
it won’t come out of your horn.
They teach you
there’s a boundary line
to music. But, man,
there’s no boundary line to art.
For the last four years I have photographed this beautiful wildflower alone Mt. Lemmon trails.
Since it’s not all that common, finding it is a wildflower treat.
Images by kenne
Building Cumulus Clouds — Black & White Image by kenne
