i am looking for the holes the holes in your jeans because i want to know are they worn out in the seat or are they worn out in the knees there are so many ways to wear what we ve got before it s gone to make use of what is there i don t wear anything i can t wipe my hands on do your politics fit between the headlines are they written in newsprint are they distant mine are crossing an empty parking lot they are a woman walking home at night alone they are six string that sing and wood that hums against my hipbone we can t afford to do anyone harm because we owe them our lives each breath is recycled from someone else s lungs are enemies are the very air in disguise you can talk a great philosophy but if you can t be kind to people every day it doesn t mean that much to me it s the little things you do the little things you say it s the love you give along the way when we patch things up they say a job well done but when we ask why where did the rips come from they say we are subversive and extreme of course we are just trying to track a problem to its source because we know we can t sit back and let people come to harm we owe them our lives each breath is recycled from someone else s lungs our enemies are the very air our enemies are the air we are looking for the holes the holes in your jeans because we want to know are they worn out in the seat or are they worn out in the knees