| If ever you find yourself beaten and broke
|
| And can’t feel the whip for the weight of the yoke
|
| And fear that the night will not turn into day
|
| Remember the darkness will show you the way
|
| It’s a long way away, it’s a long way away
|
| And I’m all alone along a long
|
| Long long long long long long way
|
| Inside the mind of a man is a massacre
|
| Made up of many a miniature message
|
| And misses the most of it
|
| So convoluted, design for disaster
|
| It’s making the best of a universe
|
| Far too expansive to cope with
|
| And he never chose nor was chosen
|
| By metrics that make any sense
|
| And the senses are numbed by emotional stresses
|
| There must be a, better place to
|
| Be somebody, be somebody else
|
| Who got time on a string, on a finger?
|
| Nothing to remember but the passage of it
|
| Who got time to let anything linger?
|
| Where it hovers, surely you will learn to love it
|
| Who got time for this love shit anyway?
|
| Gotta survive, isn’t that mess enough for him?
|
| There must be a, better place to
|
| Be somebody, be somebody else
|
| Set a course, it’s a bet upon an endless
|
| Roulette wheel odds are ungodly
|
| As are the odds of the body
|
| Making it through and surviving the gravity shift
|
| The gravitas of which is lost
|
| From the lost thoughts of a being ch-ch-chopped
|
| To a bite size in the light eyes
|
| Beggin' don’t eat the messenger
|
| The messages and SOS and other S’s
|
| In the language where it goes
|
| There must be a, better place to
|
| Be somebody, be somebody else
|
| And somebody gotta keep watch where the watch stops
|
| He talks about his pops in polarity
|
| Fingers fantasize of rocks there will never be
|
| «Land ho!"likely
|
| Lest a hole in the mantle of Heaven
|
| He’s demanding the evidence for something
|
| That maybe never was for anyone
|
| He’s missing something pretty
|
| He’s missing where the air tastes gritty
|
| He’s missing the splendor and misery
|
| Of bodies, of cities, of being missed
|
| There must be a, better place to
|
| Be somebody, be somebody else
|
| Flesh is weaker than the metal, it is true
|
| But the metal’s being moved into a thing it doesn’t do
|
| Circuitry is only serviceable as much as it is used
|
| So why don’t you use it? |
| 'Til you use it up, abuse it
|
| It is strong, it can take it if you can’t
|
| Your sinews are more intuitively designed for dance
|
| Well, it set up a random course safely away from suns
|
| Four-hundred and twenty-three
|
| By a hundred and twelve by fifty-one
|
| There must be a, better place to
|
| Be somebody, be somebody else
|
| Inside the mind of a man is a mystery, made up of these centuries
|
| Of mistakes he believes are important to be
|
| Part of his DNA, calls it history
|
| Species with memories longer
|
| Don’t bother with sweating the old shit
|
| Maybe it’s this time-bound conscience
|
| That keeps him out pushing through nothing
|
| With only the hope brought on by this belief that
|
| There must be a, better place to
|
| Be somebody, be somebody else
|
| Are you ready to go? |
| Are you ready to go yet? |
| Let’s go
|
| Are you ready to go yet? |
| Let’s go
|
| Are you ready to go? |
| Are you ready to go yet? |
| Let’s go
|
| Are you ready to go yet? |
| Let’s go
|
| Are you ready to go? |
| Are you ready to go yet? |
| Let’s go
|
| Are you ready to go yet? |
| Let’s go
|
| There must be a, better place to
|
| Be somebody, be somebody else
|
| Go |