I'm born. I'm alive. I breathe.
In a moment or two I realize, that the sphere, upon which I reside,
Is asleep on it's feet. Should I go back to sleep?
I'm born. I'm alive. I breathe.
In a moment or two I realize, that the sphere, upon which I reside,
Is asleep on it's feet.
Should I? should I? Should I go back to sleep?
You stare at me like I'm a vitamin.
On the surface you hate, but you know you need me.
I come dressed as any pill you deem fit.
Whatever helps you swallow the truth, all the more easily.
We orbit the sun. I grow up.
My open eyes see a zombified, somnambulist society.
Leaving us as vitamins for the hibernating human animal.
Do you? Do you? Do you see what I mean?
You stare at me like I'm a vitamin.
On the surface you hate, but you know you want me.
I come dressed as any pill you deem fit.
Whatever helps you swallow the truth, all the more easily
And I wonder, will you digest me?
Into the sleep machine I won't plug in, in fact I'd rather die before I will comply.
To you my friend, I write the reason I still live, 'cause in my mind it's set;
The vitamin is ripe to give.
Coming closer to another 2000 years; you and I will pry the closed eye of the sleep machine.
You stare at me like I'm a vitamin.
On the surface you hate, but you know you want me.
I come dressed as any pill you deem fit.
Whatever helps you swallow the truth, all the more easily.
