| Here I am, asleep in a hologram
|
| My mind’s a ghost
|
| Prednisone to help stimulate his growth
|
| The edge is close
|
| Here we are sustained by a dying star
|
| With time to kill
|
| Breath by breath it’s hopscotch to certain death
|
| We’re built to spill
|
| Now for my next trick
|
| I’ll worry myself sick
|
| I’ll write it in sidewalk chalk
|
| Across your whole street
|
| I miss your soul
|
| I miss your soul, soul, soul
|
| It’s time to grow
|
| Here it is
|
| The chance to rebuild the bridge across the void
|
| Blink by blink, a balance of of feel
|
| And think, a life enjoyed
|
| Now for my next wave
|
| I’ll focus myself brave
|
| Retire my microscope
|
| And check my baggage
|
| And it’s time to go
|
| It’s time to go, go, go
|
| It’s time to go
|
| It’s time to go, go go
|
| It’s time to grow
|
| Here I am, asleep in a hologram
|
| My mind’s a ghost
|
| I miss your soul
|
| I miss your soul, soul, soul
|
| It’s time to go
|
| It’s time to go, go go
|
| It’s time to grow |