Winter Morning II (excerpt)

There were all these millions of people who've come to here
And I see them all
People of every color, shape, and size
And then I think about all those people who did
All of those that made it

Made it to some distant shore, when they come up the beach
Or a bridge, or around to a road
They start to walk
Then they start walking faster and faster
Then they are running
They made it
They weren't last. No

But don't get me wrong
I'm the ghost of all those who never got to get there
And the ghost of those who will never get there