| All our lives we get followed
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| By our shadows
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| Who collect
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| Our darkest thoughts
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| Through all our nights
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| And store then in
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| The pool devoid of light
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| We fight
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| But we get swallowed every time
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| It’s my will
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| Before you sell your mother’s pills
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| Reflect on minor miracles
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| Reflect on faceless, endless toil
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| Reflecting you and all your foibles
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| Oh, we try
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| But we get swallowed every time
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| It’s my will
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| So if you’re gonna break, you might as well shatter
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| But if you’re gonna make, it might as well matter to you
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| And is anybody else jumping at shadows
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| Or am I the only one
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| Got no need for sentimental secrets
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| Kept on mantelpieces
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| On display for all to see
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| So lock your eyes on mind
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| And walk away
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| I try not to wallow
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| Shame on me
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| And my will
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| I know nothing’s standing still
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| The boundless space that the ether fills
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| The endless spill of particles
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| Of humming birds and buzzing wings
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| The thing that drives the wolves away
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| The thing that stays
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| Is your will
|
| So if you’re gonna break, you might as well shatter
|
| But if you’re gonna make, it might as well matter to you
|
| And is anybody else jumping at shadows
|
| Or am I the only one
|
| The ether fills the boundless space
|
| So if you’re gonna break, you might as well shatter
|
| But if you’re gonna make, it might as well matter to you
|
| And is anybody else jumping at shadows
|
| Or am I the only one |