Learned to count by match light
nourished by a simple plastic bag
the material of ghost shoes
sought like saffron
and pounded so small
that bird neck landing
and the tears of its wings landing
learned to read by a ration of light
nothing comes to the faithless firsthand
yet all we crave won't save us
on the other side
don't let your land hand know
what your right hand is doing
don't let your right hand know
what your left hand is going through
things got oddly real
got a sudden feeling
gotta take the wheel back
I can't say I'm awake yet
don't count on me to stay awake yet
sustained by a simple scent
sprung from molecular pegboard
in the two-way cage of a laboratory
in the sub-basement
beneath the official union barber shop
where those who are sometimes called pigs
get shaved
nothing comes to the faithless firsthand
yet all we crave won't save us
on the other hand
don't let your left hand know
what your right hand is doing
don't know your right hand know
what your left hand is going through
we will crawl over the walls
we will become manifest
any time and every time we so choose
and we will persevere
it won't be like money anymore