We stepped aside from the wide, paved path
Treaded our own by grinding the grass
Slow years of our rebellion passed
The sand like dust making fine shoe prints
Stepped over and over each other
We made our own path because it made sense
Our shortcut past the trees and by the lake
And finally over time the authorities gave way
Made way for a clearer path
Aided our rebellion in unity of reason
If only it was always that easy
If only the people had but to walk
On the path they chose for themselves
And the walls of power would come down
Perhaps Joshua was on to something
