| I felt the thought compose
|
| Shot down to mull it over alone
|
| All the things we don’t talk about
|
| They play upon my mind
|
| I heard your mantra
|
| I sung your hymn
|
| Spawned in accordance to my programming
|
| We’re shooting through the infinite
|
| Trying to forget, to forget, to forget
|
| Tiptoeing on a tightrope
|
| Caught between realities
|
| And what we’re choosing to see
|
| In the end will we awake and will we say
|
| «Oh what a wild ride
|
| Heart, lungs and brain confined inside
|
| Such a small and soft shell
|
| I felt fear
|
| I felt the pull of time»
|
| I heard your mantra (I heard your mantra)
|
| I sung your hymn (I sung your hymn)
|
| Spawned in accordance to my programming
|
| Are we a fragment of one collected thing?
|
| Do we self destruct every time just to start again?
|
| We’re shooting through the infinite
|
| Trying to forget, to forget, to forget
|
| Tiptoeing on a tightrope
|
| Caught between realities
|
| And what we’re choosing to see
|
| All the things that we don’t talk about
|
| We’re shooting through the infinite
|
| Trying to forget, to forget, to forget
|
| We’re shooting through the infinite
|
| Trying to forget, to forget, to forget
|
| We’re shooting through the infinite
|
| Trying to forget, to forget, to forget
|
| We’re shooting through the infinite
|
| Trying to forget, to forget
|
| All the things that we don’t talk about |