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Somewhere in these private minds, |
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The last one comes out just in time |
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To clear out the chambers and sew up the lips, |
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'Cause that's the price to pay for hoping every slip's not a slide. |
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In other words not to get it wrong, |
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It's pointless to walk when it's past time to run. |
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Secured under the weight of watchful eyes, |
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Lulled to sleep under clear expansive skies. |
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Somewhere in these prying hearts |
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Conflicting histories tear us apart |
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And we hope we don't get what we deserve, |
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Hide behind the targets in front of all the people we serve. |
