EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE AFRAID The junkie looks in a window of my house. He is singing death's approach, its nearing drums and muffled feet. Is he afraid?--he is singing, remember, and I think he is dancing. He closes his eyes, he raises his hands to catch the music, the sweat rivers his face, he sings of possibilities faster and faster. Look-- he's opening his eyes and turning to see up the road, the drums are louder and his feet are moving, he is leaving me and still singing. I can hear all the words now, they are about doing anything even though you are afraid.