|
Your mind's a machine |
|
It's deadly and dull |
|
It's never been still and its will |
|
Has never been free |
|
Lightly tapping |
|
A high-pitched drum |
|
As your spine starts to shine |
|
You shiver at your soul |
|
A fist so clear and climbing |
|
Punches a hole |
|
In the sky |
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So you can see |
|
For yourself |
|
If you don't believe me |
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There's so much less |
|
To this than you think |
|
It's almost gone |
|
The night is dissolving |
|
In a cup God lifts |
|
To toast the lightning |
|
Lightly tapping |
|
It's high-pitched and it hums |
|
Your spine starts to shine |
|
And you shiver at your soul |
|
A fist so clear and climbing |
|
Punches a hole |
|
In the sky |
|
So you can see |
|
For yourself |
|
If you don't believe me |
|
There's so much less |
|
To this than you think |
