a filtered light

what counts is not what we may think
day and night with mind and hand
we draw ourselves back from the brink

things vanish in a sudden wink
the standard message is so bland
what counts is not what we may think

the weight of life sets in the ink
still as we listen for the band
we draw ourselves back from the brink

ultimate search for the truest link
between the worker and the land
what counts is not what we may think

light does not seek the meanest chink
but illuminates the doorways grand
we draw ourselves back from the brink

thirst drives us to the clearest drink
that's all that we may understand
what counts is not what we may think
we draw ourselves back from the brink