this song, written in march of 2001, marked my 6 month anniversary of busking for a living. the day before, while considering my fortunate situation as a healthy human being in a free country (which i often do when i am feeling weak, ineffectual, overwhelmed), i had written in my journal: 'some days i can't get out of bed. not even with arms and legs. and i don't know where to start. and then there's tibet, on top of cambodia. and what about bosnia? is that finished yet? political or religious, we're reaching critical mass on tragedy and i can't live with myself or lie to myself saying 'that's just how it's gotta be'.