You can’t stop the race, people moving in place, running a crooked path from place to place to place. Paved in gold. The chords in which we hang weaken every day. They beg for strength, but they are blessed by our blade.
Questions on our minds
Buildings on the rise
Diamonds instead of our eyes and corporate fights
O busy, busy bees walking to and from, what if we close our eyes? What if we can’t wake up? I hope you all rest in peace. I hope you find what you’re looking for. But if that’s all that you got, well, then there’s got to be more. They lay carpet that’s made of red and we walk paths made of gold, but we are blind just past the nose in this tree-covered earth. Yes, that’s right. Can we disappear from all we got? We are scattered on God’s grace, but we’re a drip, we’re a flash, we’re a mist, we’re a speck, but we got time.