What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.
G.E. Woodberry
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So Alone
Look at the crowd and tell me whether
All are surrounded
But some are together
If you’re awake, look all around
At all of the people
Still you’re so alone
Chorus
So alone
If I could, I’d make a suggestion
Without sounding preachy
Or begging the question
Melt with your minds
Melt with each other
Don’t be surrounded, don’t be so alone
Chorus