oh as the comforts of your trash
commence to tag me
as a roadless vagabond
i turn and turn within the factories
until inevitably
the walls all fall down...
and down down into the dust
with which i am formed in trust
to see her bounty
the possesor of the ageless cup
which built the hole to hold us all
all ye mice and men;
but only til we find the higher brain...
and as the comets collide
to pry our heartsick minds alive
away from this
ensorrowed and glad existence
i calmly realize
its not my hour
im just a turtle inside a shell
and you're just a sewer spillin down, down...
and down, down into the dust
with which i am formed in trust
to see her bounty
the possesor of the ageles cup
which built the hole to hold us all
all ye mice and men...
but only til we find the higher brain...
