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