If left to our own devices, We tend towards the complex, Random happenings within our nature, Arranging patterns that just say "Yes!" So who acts & who directs? Who makes the tea & who projects? The Reptilian Mind is linked to the spine, So the hierarchy can collect, Some rhythms are divisive, Until their signature changes time, In your head there's a TV screen, In Heaven everything is fine, For surely we are all migrants, In a evolving sea, made from clay, The Beast has desires, Man has emotions, But the spirit has consciousness, And some get lost along the way.