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Visions
High-flying ingenuity
From life that spawns in the dirt
Liberated and shot skyward
And dreading contact with the Earth
Loosely-fit and misunderstood
Without proper class or race
Unable to be analyzed
While defiling the present's grace
Walking with three steps to pass
An eye taken for every impression made
And while we've experienced a second side
We've found all the more privacy to invade
We can ignore these lifting waves of sound
And pretend as if the sky's been painted on
We could drown in quick sand and pretend to be distracted
After our adopted children are dead, and gone
We could stand with all of the candles put out
And allow the moon and the stars to give us direction
And we could give a wish to a passing satellite
To bring us something that's worth our attention
And then again we could sit down
And fall asleep to a timid song in a small stereo
Finding patterns in the ceiling and along the walls
Living through a lover's eyes and a children's show
