This message may not ever come out of the clouds
Until the animals speak and the irrational die down
Until the faucet leaks and Jesus gives up his crown
Until the feathers are ripped and the mystery gets drowned
Until the d** they hit and the pastor finishes his rounds
While I may not ever understand the difference between toilet paper and sand
Figuratively and sad
Short changed and elements as a fad
Vanity mixed in where the clowns dance
And factories shut down where the dead crash
Keep pretending like this is something that I had planned
Because its not
It's something that slipped through my toes - not my hands
And where enemies get planted
Babies get grown
And where attitudes are established
You throw kings off their thrones
But you forgot that we were living in the same village
And you forgot that you forgot how to let in the willing
Without choking on the dust from the explosion of your own sacrificed doubt
Making sure you could control others
Without really showing yourself
This dance is a reflection when I look into the mirror
Some parts are missing and different but the straddle was clear
10 years we've spent k**ing nomes in the garden
10 sins and my shoulders collapsed
I'm floating dead in your waters
I don't want to play games near the insane asylum
I just want what I thought was there this whole time
Sister to a daughter
Blood and water
Bloodhounds and a system on its last wire
So I rehash colors that are mysteries to the storms
I recla**ify stories I talked sh** in the thunder dome
I still take hits that are pacifiers to secrets you sold
I still see myself in you and the parts I need to take responsibility for