| Do you still feel the weakness in your knees
|
| When you think about finally waking up from a dream?
|
| These notions from another time spill from your head
|
| So tell me
|
| Why do the words resound and shift in the narrative
|
| As I read it slowly now?
|
| So can we walk across, across the threshold
|
| Before our hearts all give out?
|
| I fear the gears and how they wind
|
| Do you feel the gears ticking down inside your mind?
|
| Do you feel the energy that we emit when we collide?
|
| Will you run away with me somewhere we can hide?
|
| To a workshop in need of your autonomic eyes
|
| You carry all our weight
|
| You’re the deserts engineer by design
|
| You stumbled all this way just to find out you’re not alive
|
| The stardust is thick in my lungs, we can’t breathe in
|
| The nitrogen clicks and the cold deepens
|
| Do you still feel
|
| Do you still feel the weakness in your knees
|
| When you think about finally waking up from a dream?
|
| These notions from another time spill from your head
|
| So tell me
|
| Why do the words resound and shift in the narrative
|
| As I read it slowly now?
|
| So can we walk across, across the threshold
|
| Before our hearts all give out?
|
| Give out
|
| As time strains and the ground erodes
|
| Your mechanical body is getting old
|
| These moving parts, they move no more, we have lost control
|
| Motor functions gone along with everything we know
|
| This smoke-stack in my head is bellowing dreams
|
| Flowing and ebbing into lucidity
|
| This smoke-stack in my head is bellowing dreams
|
| Flowing and ebbing into lucidity
|
| Do you still feel the weakness in your knees
|
| When you think about finally waking up from a dream?
|
| These notions from another time spill from your head
|
| So tell me
|
| Why do the words resound and shift in the narrative
|
| As I read it slowly now?
|
| So can we walk across, across the threshold
|
| Before our hearts all give out?
|
| Give out
|
| So could this finally be where we turn to dust
|
| At the end of an era, the end of an era?
|
| I’m finally free from this rusted husk
|
| At the end of an era, the end of it all
|
| This smoke-stack in my head is bellowing dreams
|
| Flowing and ebbing into lucidity
|
| This smoke-stack in my head is bellowing dreams
|
| Flowing and ebbing into lucidity |