Из альбома: A Prescription for Paper Cuts
I am surrounded by remote controls
The bright white sky is staring back at me
While trying to avoid a programmed path
A staler path cannot be bounced
On my quest to conquer time
I've managed only to drip
Pieces of myself
Collapsing for the dams have broken up
I cannot grasp the river flowing down
I refuse to watch the view go by
There has got to be a way to swim
But I am glued to this thought
While running endlessly to catch some butterflies
I never notice the punctures in the ground