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BRAINCHILD |
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RIDING THROUGH THE ENDLESS DESERT, WHITE GLARING AND FLAT EXCEPT |
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THE HAZY POOR GLEAM OF MOUNTAINS AND THE DEVILSGRASS WITHIN |
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SWEET DREAMS AND THE DEVILSGRASS WITHIN... |
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BUT TOMORROW IT COULD BE TO LATE |
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YEAH TOMORROW MAYBE MY TRUST COULD FADE |
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TOMORROW I COULD SEE THINGS THROUGH A KIND OF GREYNESS |
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AND THEN I COULD CHANGE MYSELF INTO A KIND OF BIRD OF PREY |
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SWEET DREAMS DEATH AND NIGHTMARES |
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ON THE NARROW PATH BETWEEN CRUSTS OF SALT |
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THROUGH THE ENDLESS CRYING MONOTONOUS WILDERNESS |
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GIVE ME YOUR WINGS BIRD I WILL SPREAD THEM OUT AND FLY |
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TO THE WAY TO THE TOWER, WHERE I WILL SING ALL THEIR NAMES |
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I WILL SING ALL THEIR NAMES |
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BUT TOMORROW IT COULD BE TO LATE |
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YEAH TOMORROW MAYBE MY TRUST COULD FADE |
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TOMORROW I COULD SEE THINGS THROUGH A KIND OF GREYNESS |
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AND THEN I COULD CHANGE MYSELF INTO A KIND OF BIRD OF PREY |
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BUT TOMORROW IT COULD BE TO LATE |
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YEAH TOMORROW MAYBE MY TRUST COULD FADE |
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TOMORROW I COULD SEE THINGS THROUGH A KIND OF GREYNESS |
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AND THEN I COULD CHANGE MYSELF INTO A KIND OF BIRD OF PREY |
