| With the synth and sound we might just believe that we could do
|
| All the things in our minds with exacto knives and bings that will make you
|
| Write all the sounds, all men traded into worlds where we due to
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| Love, and defined all the leaves that we can speak about
|
| Well, you know where you like that the cinder blocks are taking up our
|
| View for a while with the simple mathematics of our
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| Lives and design. |
| There’s a head that pointed five degrees to the
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| Right; |
| do you know there will only be so many of our kind?
|
| Give us some of the ghost notes
|
| Give us some of the chosen, oh!
|
| Give us some of the closing slots
|
| Give us some of the falsest hope
|
| We are lies and go right down through the suction on the great
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| Eye and we climb; |
| do you know the knee scrapes represent that we
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| Thought of design? |
| It comes in and rolls you out with thoughts of the
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| World not in line; |
| do you think that they’re imaginary
|
| Hearts? |
| It was right to return to pieces of the circle
|
| Where we declined. |
| I know military moments will believe
|
| Us; |
| it’s a sound, and a tick-tock to the world that tells you
|
| How you arrive; |
| do you think that we are momentary?
|
| Give us some of the ghost notes
|
| Give us some of the chosen, oh!
|
| Give us some of the closing slots
|
| Give us some of the falsest hope
|
| This is where the like, the like rude choir comes in, alright? |
| it goes like
|
| this, it’s like:
|
| 'Cause we wanna love, wanna sift through the creation time by
|
| Night with your thoughts; |
| you know, I am just a literary fox
|
| With a song. |
| They come in like shells and sink right through the
|
| World and the rhyme. |
| You know pieces of the poetry go
|
| Out for the cause; |
| does it feel like somethings missing? |
| Time to
|
| Concede for a while because all that’s right is always; |
| that’s what’s
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| Wrong! |
| In your mind are the churches right beneath the stairs of your
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| House and the time, it’s the tick-tock going out and weary… |