| I kick back and watch the stars.
|
| They say: «This day will come so please don’t be afraid.»
|
| But since this child’s a man now,
|
| We’ll be away, away, away.
|
| You’ve spent too long away, away, away.
|
| We only sleep to pass away the days.
|
| I’ve learnt to leave my body;
|
| To find peace away, away, away.
|
| You’ve gone too far away, away, away.
|
| A childhood friend is now unknown to me.
|
| Thieves in the stars are godlike.
|
| While they’re away, away, away.
|
| Home, a smothered star.
|
| The womb’s way too far.
|
| All fingerprints astray, astray, astray.
|
| Where wide-eyed gods are thought to be unseen.
|
| Some slip out of their conscience to find truth.
|
| Away, away, away.
|
| A gathered source of waves, of waves, of waves.
|
| Abandoned body, mobility of «think».
|
| Aesthetic proof beyond nimbus,
|
| Come find me away, away, away.
|
| Home, a smothered star.
|
| The womb’s too far.
|
| Something’s wrong,
|
| It’s very wrong.
|
| It all becomes unharmed.
|
| Seared stretch of soil and scab.
|
| A bored time of simple man.
|
| We need something more.
|
| Something more.
|
| Time stands still in children’s hands.
|
| It all changed 'cause Bruce Lee’s dead.
|
| We need something more.
|
| Something more.
|
| Coffee-fuelled robots with plans.
|
| Dollars, dimes, supply and demand.
|
| We need something more.
|
| Something more.
|
| Home, a smothered star.
|
| The womb’s way too far.
|
| World way out there.
|
| You’re sort of strange.
|
| Fruit for the brain.
|
| Hope of true source.
|
| But it’s so far.
|
| It seems way too far. |