| Why does the color | |
| Move away from my mind | |
| The first place I rest | |
| Is the last of its kind | |
| Growing my thoughts | |
| On tethers borrowed by time | |
| My eyes choose to blur | |
| And my body unwinds | |
| There's feelings I've left | |
| In the past I would guess | |
| That they weren't fulfilled | |
| Or that they were a mess | |
| Now the energy in | |
| All the things that I touch | |
| Controlling my mind | |
| Making me think too much | |
| I'll have to have problems | |
| With the things that I know | |
| I'll go to the movies | |
| I won't lose control | |
| I've come to see you on | |
| I've come to see you on | |
| I've come to see you on | |
| I've come to see you on |
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