Here we are, a final moment found inside a wood guitar That splits the seams wide open Oh Oh cause I know who you are You paint the doors and walls and listen for the bell-chime calls And life is nothing more at all than tea-cup drips and bouncing balls And Oh It's real, and never fading Listen to the strings you've strung and all the words you're saying now Sing a song, a song with feeling
that sounds best when you've hit the bong and concludes deeper meaning Oh Oh cause I know sometimes All the thoughts can sometimes hit Confusion as the record skips But who needs fools to think youre hip When all the world is full of sh** And Oh I hear the timbres you're playing It sits inside the summer sky It's softly cascading