Sometimes, for a moment of bliss And the passion, we're craving There's a message we miss Sometimes when the spirits left alone We must believe in something To find if we've grown
Swept away with the tide Through the holes in my hands Crown of thorns At my side drawing lines in the sand
Sometimes, if you're perfectly still You can hear the virgin weeping For the savior of your will Sometimes, your castles in the air And the fantasies you're seeking
Swept away with the tide Through the holes in my hands Crown of thorns At my side drawing lines in the sand
We fabricate our demons Invite them into our homes Have supper with the aliens And fight the war alone We conjure up our skeletons Enlist the den of theives Frightened from our closets Then sewn upon our sleeves
In the stream of consciousness There is a river crying Living comes much easier
Once we admit We're dying
Sometimes, in the wreckage of our wake There's a bitterness we harbor And hate for hatred's sake Sometime we dig an early grave And crucify our instincts For the hope we couldn't save
Sometimes a view from sinless eyes Centers our perspective And pacifies our cries Sometimes the anguish we survive And the mysteries we nurture Are the fabrics of our lives
Swept away with the tide Through the holes in my hands Crown of thorns At my side drawing lines in the sand
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