Can′t figure out how we got here

Living on decay

The seven words left on paperWill disconnect the day

And you want, and you want

And you want anything that's clear

And it′s all around us as ghosted machines

Would the real be just silent

If there's a hole in the key?

At the bar in the basement

For an hour-glass of tea

Our love is violent

Constant space in between

And the taste has got a texture

Smoke has not a sound

The fabric that was fixed here

Inherent in the ground

And it's all around us as ghosted machines

Would the real be just silent

If there′s a hole in the key?

At the bar in the basement

For an hour-glass of tea

Our love is violent

Space in between

And as much as I′d like to

Believe there's a truth

About our illusion, well I′ve come to conclude

There's just nothing beyond it

The mind can perceive

Except for the pictures in

The space in between

The space in between