It's cold again, it looks like rain A procession of humanity, strikingly simian Saunters by, I can't explain Why it's troubling to see them so Oh, better than who we are With mania and yearning for and learning from Oh, better than holiness And candy aisles of loneliness and sweet revenge A cigarette, a memory All connections to the permanence of burning The pedestal gets in the way And cannot withstand our honest scrutiny Oh, better than who we are With mania or standing for or dead against Oh, better than holiness And candy aisles of loneliness and sweet revenge Do you feel the chill of December in the rioting of spring? And are we made of something better than clay? A leap, a fight, a secret rite The lonely quest for meaning and the universe is dreaming Oh, better than who we are With mania and yearning for and learning from Oh, better than holiness And candy aisles of loneliness and sweet revenge