| So when you turn your head from these lasers
|
| You find that my? |
| gets mixed up
|
| My equation seems like years away from this place
|
| And this cold faith, bitter taste, squeezed and then lost
|
| Release me from this cup
|
| And silence the wind that forgives
|
| Hearing the names calling
|
| Horsemen, charging
|
| There is no safety in numbers
|
| There’s no safety in numbers
|
| Can i steer this ship?
|
| Or does she conceive me?
|
| The lighthouse sheds it’s light
|
| And blinds me
|
| The tree stands tall, stands proud
|
| Defeats me
|
| Logic; |
| these numbers can’t heal me
|
| There’s no safety in numbers
|
| There is no safety in numbers
|
| (spoken)
|
| When you agree that you are casualty to equation
|
| Slave to schematics
|
| A division of greater parts equal to the derivative of itself
|
| And then multiply |