| Lyrics |
Going through a world of sad debris,
Regard quixoitic reveries of ownership:
The blossoming disease of man called tenure and accretion,
The ancient western treadmill of deception and derision.
But I want something more.
Racing through a life of tragic wastage,I experience the loss of trust and innocence.
The billowing cyclone of time has blown away our reasons
As we trudge like blind men forward trying to avoid collision.
But I want something...
More.
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