| I feed from the bottom, you feed from the top |
| I live upon morsels you happen to drop |
| And coffee that somehow leaks out of your cup |
| If nothing comes down then I’m forced to swim up On the way upwards, the colors come back |
| But all along the bottom is blue, grey, and black |
| The darkness is cold and perception goes wrong |
| And the night seems to go on incredibly long |
| So I ask you why if I’m swimming by, |
| Don’t you see anything you’d like to try? |
| Pantomime mixtures of heaven and earth |
| Jumbled events that have less than no worth |
| Time in the forest to dig under rocks |
| Or float in the ocean asleep in a box |
| Or sink just below all the churning and froth |
| And swim to the light source or fly like a moth |
| So toss away stuff you don’t need in the end |
| But keep what’s important and know who’s your friend |
| So I ask you why if I’m swimming by, |
| Don’t you see anything that you’d like to try? |
| If I’m swimming by From the bottom, from the top (x 8) |