| 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 |