| Can I kill the lights and shut off the energy? |
| 'Cause the world is my windmill |
| It’s my enemy |
| Can I kill the voice that babbles me to sleep |
| Warning me that this process never ends? |
| I’ll be talking when I am dead and soil |
| And the sound will remain when I carbonize to oil |
| It’s the ecstasy of flying |
| Miles above the hungry war |
| It’s the fear of concentration |
| Pulling me away once more |
| It’s the reason that I’m lying to you |
| Why I can’t sit still |
| It’s the vaguest implication |
| Joining this world to my will |
| And I don’t think I can make this stop |
| Though everything could change in the world up top |
| Behind my skin blares a spoken song |
| Though everything could change, it will echo on and on |
| I’m a radio tuned to white noise in between |
| What was hissing in the foreground is now a backdrop screen |
| And should a river emerge within this cloudy stream |
| Would it trickle a message that I trust? |
| Can I know that a soothing word’s not just |
| The beginning of more grey noise to fill the dream? |
| There’s uncertainty with every face |
| I think I’ve seen before |
| There’s an endless second guessing |
| What’s behind my bedroom door? |
| There’s no doubt that every blade of grass |
| Feels urgency to speak |
| There is no writing on the wall |
| In braille through foothills of concrete |
| And I don’t think I can make this stop |
| Though everything could change in the world up top |
| Behind my skin blares a spoken song |
| Though everything could change, it will echo on and on |
| I’m no hallucination |
| Watch out, your vision lies |
| For every Coelacanth reborn |
| Nine hundred oceans die |
| I know the truth is waiting |
| Somewhere behind the eyes |
| Narrates beyond the story’s end |
| Books locked from the inside |
| And I don’t think I can make this stop |
| Though everything could change in the world up top |
| Behind my skin blares a spoken song |
| Though everything could change, it will echo on and on |
| And I don’t think I can make this stop |
| Though everything could change in the world up top |
| Behind my skin blares a spoken song |
| Though everything could change, it will echo on and on |
| (I'm no hallucination |
| Watch out, your vision lies |
| For every Coelacanth reborn |
| Nine hundred oceans die |
| I know the truth is waiting |
| Somewhere behind the eyes |
| Narrates beyond the story’s end |
| Books locked from the inside) |
| I don’t think I can make this stop |
| Though everything could change in the world up top |
| Behind my skin blares a spoken song |
| Though everything could change, it will echo on and on |
| (Dream never in a dream. You are all I need |
| Your window wide, your soul outside, thrown fast and run far |
| You’re not alone, you’re higher flown than boys with one heart |
| Stare at the sun, I’m everyone, I’m bone and feather |
| I float above the borders of now and forever.) |