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If it were within, within our power |
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Beyond the reach of slavish pride |
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To no longer harbour grievances |
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Behind the mask's opportunist's facade |
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We could welcome the responsibility |
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Like a long lost friend |
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And re-establish laughter |
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In the dolls house once again |
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For time has imprisoned us |
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In the order of our years |
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In the discipline of our ways |
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And in the passing of momentary stillness |
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We can see our chaos in motion |
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Our chaos in motion |
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We can see our chaos in motion |
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View our chaos in motion |
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And the subsequent collisions of fools |
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Well versed in the subtle art of slavery |
