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Let's begin at the top: |
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there's no reason to think that this will ever stop, |
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so let's go back and start again; |
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in this finite uncertainty we'll circle round and then |
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sail a craft of self-conviction |
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across tomorrow-never-knows |
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where the surface stays unruffled |
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while the coral clusters quietly down below. |
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Cutting figures of pride and will like Leonardo cartoons |
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we go flying formation in our hot-air speech balloons. |
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Can't go back, can't reverse... |
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no-one here really quite believes |
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the bubble's going to, |
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the bubble's going to, |
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the bubble's going to burst. |
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I fell off the raft of self-assurance |
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into undertow that sucked me dry and deep; |
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bent double by thought bubbles flooding through my blood |
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I surfaced from a lifetime's worth of sleep. |
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I remember once I gave myself the lecture, |
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swore on life as both a blessing and a curse |
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but all solid faith seems nothing but conjecture |
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now the bubble's going to, |
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bubble's going to, |
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bubble's going to, |
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bubble's going to burst. |
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And our bones become the coral of the future |
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and we slake the life-long thirst; |
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with a pin-prick, on a reef like a razor |
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the bubble's going to burst, |
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the bubble's going to burst. |
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The bubble's sure to burst. |
