There is a flower on a stone,
there's a eulogy in grey,
there's routine in the tone:
"My dear, how are you today?"
In the midst of fear and pain,
among the ruins of their lives,
among the bloated remains of husbands, kids, and wives
they all turn to the skies.
It's running deeper than an ocean, perpetual emotion
battling the intellect.
A stunning, steady locomotion, visceral commotion,
perpetual emotion machine.
Back when their empires collapsed,
somewhere high above the Wall,
lives burned out like some cash,
they heeded gravity's call.
All the thoughts of yesterday
disappearing in the smoke,
tomorrow fading away. The ability to cope
replaced by liquid hope.
It's running deeper than an ocean, perpetual emotion
battling the intellect.
A stunning, steady locomotion, visceral commotion,
perpetual emotion machine.
Grief, and love, and terror, and anger,
fear, regret, emotional stupor.
The brain, it speaks, but nobody listens.
there's a eulogy in grey,
there's routine in the tone:
"My dear, how are you today?"
In the midst of fear and pain,
among the ruins of their lives,
among the bloated remains of husbands, kids, and wives
they all turn to the skies.
It's running deeper than an ocean, perpetual emotion
battling the intellect.
A stunning, steady locomotion, visceral commotion,
perpetual emotion machine.
Back when their empires collapsed,
somewhere high above the Wall,
lives burned out like some cash,
they heeded gravity's call.
All the thoughts of yesterday
disappearing in the smoke,
tomorrow fading away. The ability to cope
replaced by liquid hope.
It's running deeper than an ocean, perpetual emotion
battling the intellect.
A stunning, steady locomotion, visceral commotion,
perpetual emotion machine.
Grief, and love, and terror, and anger,
fear, regret, emotional stupor.
The brain, it speaks, but nobody listens.