| Pulled into another dream that isn’t mine
|
| A thread gone through the silver needle’s eye
|
| And sewn back to you
|
| Only to be ripped apart
|
| One heart, now two
|
| So do we get what we deserve?
|
| Or are we made of nothing more
|
| Than fractals of light shooting in the dark?
|
| Moving faster than we ever have before
|
| We’re chasing after a glimpse of all that we adore
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| A moment of calm, my touch on your arm
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| Whispering sleep now, sleep now
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| The river’s flowing backwards, and everyone’s an actor
|
| In too deep now, deep now
|
| Reaching for the surface, crying out for purpose
|
| So do we get what we deserve?
|
| Or are we made of nothing more
|
| Than fractals of light shooting in the dark?
|
| You and me, we’re just plots on the curve
|
| A shining spectacle to observe
|
| Spiraling fractures on a silver arc
|
| So how many more ways
|
| Can you cut me out just to bring me to life?
|
| And how many more times
|
| Will I subdivide before I’m not the sum of my parts?
|
| And you don’t recognize me anymore
|
| So do we get what we deserve?
|
| Or are we made of nothing more
|
| Than fractals of light shooting in the dark?
|
| You and me, we’re just plots on the curve
|
| A shining spectacle to observe
|
| Spiraling fractures on a silver arc
|
| Sleep now |