Tall trees hide the light
Senses catch the lions' roar, the tigers' grunt
Trailing a wet, marshy path
Smelling the memory of hunted animals
The touch of thirsty, fallen leafs

Aching in the jungle is for those who never sleep
Those who stay on guard
Those who call their sun to shine
Their light to rise

Those who whisper softly to the skies
Those who pray as night arrives
Those who try to wake up a sleepy, lazy tomorrow
That opens with a yawn
And closes with a dream