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There is a comet floating thru this endless night |
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Embraced with perfect symmetry |
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Thru the tear drop of infinity |
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In a window called the universe |
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With no map or intention |
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Towards some floating destination |
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It will find or it will be found |
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No pride, no guilt, no hate, no envy |
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Who sings this song |
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Sings with a crooked tongue |
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Looking off into a crooked sky |
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Wondering |
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What immortal hand or eye |
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Could carve this comet |
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On it's course |
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Like a blind man riding on a crooked horse |
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Returning to the source |
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Where no though has ever happened |
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And time can't won't imagined |
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No pride, no guilt, no hate, no envy |
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No pride, no guilt, no hate, no envy |
