I’m wild…just like a rock, a stone, a tree. And I’m free…just like the wind, the breeze that blows. And I flow…just like a brook, a stream, the rain. And I fly, just like a bird up in the sky. And I’ll surely die…just like a flower plucked. And dragged away. And thrown away. And then one day it turns to clay. It blows away, it finds a ray, it finds its way. And there it lays until the rain and sun. Then I breathe, just like the wind the breeze that blows. And I grow, just like a baby breastfeeding. And it’s beautiful. That’s life.
— Erykah Badu