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