|
I can see the shadows on the wall |
|
Drifting as the leaves start to fall |
|
Unfaded by rugosity, the objects yield to gravity |
|
And depict the destiny of us all |
|
All, allNo one really knows why we die |
|
No one gets a break so we try |
|
Ignoring mortality, we worship mediocrity |
|
And wait to see what happens up on high |
|
High, high |
|
In so many ways we live to follow the sun |
|
In so many ways we exalt and fail as one |
|
In so many ways we want so bad to be done |
|
In so many ways we show our pain in unison |
|
Unison, unison |
|
Something in you is busy counting days |
|
Catapulting you through the haze |
|
Blind to virtuosity, ignorant of your sanctity |
|
Revealing you in so many ways |
|
Ways, ways |
|
In so many ways we live to follow the sun |
|
In so many ways we tend to rise and fall as one |
|
In so many ways we want so bad to be done |
|
In so many ways we show our pain in unison |
|
Unison, unison |
|
In so many ways we live to follow the sun |
|
In so many ways we exalt and fail as one |
|
In so many ways we want so bad to be done |
|
In so many ways we show our pain in unison |
|
Unison, unison |
