He said, ?You stand in your own shoes? I said, ?I'd rather stand in someone else's? He said, ?You look from your direction? I said, ?I like to keep perspective
This line is burning, turning to ash as it hits the air Every step is a day in the week It's a Sunday or Monday A march over months of the year This
50-50 chance The doctor said In the cardiac room As she's lying in bed There's a pan on the floor Filled with something black I need to know I'm afraid
Men in a war If they've lost a limb Still feel that limb As they did before Men in a war If they've lost a limb Still feel that limb As they did before
Those whole girls Hurl down words Run in packs With bloom to spare They know health Know it well Skim the cream And fill the brim Drip with news Spin
Institution Green The walls are cracked and dim And we are standin' in a line Waitin' for our faces to be seen Institution Green Watch the floor and
Now the time has come to speak I was not able And water through a rusted pipe Could make the sense that I do Gurgle and mutter Hiss, stutter Moan the
Let's tell the future Let's see how it's been done By numbers, by mirrors, by water By dots made at random on paper By salt, by dice, by meal, by mice
Somewhere in a room With a poster on a wall Of a man with his hand In a fist Is a woman who's drinking And her dress is so tight You can see every breath
He said you stand in your own shoes I said I'd rather stand in someone else's He said you look from your direction I said I like to keep perspective
Institution green The walls are cracked and dim And we are standing in a line Waiting for our faces to be seen Institution green Watch the floor and
Men in a war If they've lost a limb Still feel that limb As they did before He lay on a cot He was drenched in a sweat He was mute and staring But feeling
This line is burning Turning to ash as it hits the air Every step is a day in the week It's a Sunday or Monday A march over months of the year This
Let's tell the future Let's see how it's been done. By numbers. By mirrors. By water. By dots made at random on paper. By salt. By dice. By meal. By
In my book of dreams X3 I took your urgent whisper Stole the arc of a white wing Rode like foam on the river of pity Turned its tide to strength Healed
Now the time has come to speak I was not able And water through a rusted pipe Could make the sense that I do Gurgle, mutter Hiss, stutter Moan the words