We express the same things but with different words We acknowledge the same curve and those might-have-heards
It’s like the last line you draw to remind of the past-time A fast-winded feeling of freedom please to be recognized
And I can hear your doctors calling from here, They’re saying…
Killed by his independenct and Achilles heel, Coz he armed himself with stealthy mass-appeal
——— Where’s my muse, where’s my muse It feels like every word slipping through my mouth has been used
Staggering like the old man feeding the dirt With my glass eye reflecting all the things that I’ve learned
A windowless frame in a transparent room Filling up cracks with plastic assumes
Shapeshift A nuance A venue
Chorus: Don’t stop dreaming cuz this ain’t over Wreck of your life, aim til you get sober
Don’t stop dreaming cuz this ain’t over My friend
——— I wrestle myself as I walk along the weary-motely watching I find myself staring building up an empire, of my great desire while the fumes from my thought process take me higher…
Higher and higher, I ain’t stoppin’ there, My avalanche of color starts over there, And I’ve got the solitary key to go through.
Grey and delicious The traps can be so vicious Prepare for the ultimate takedown.
Part time experience Might save you from deliverance, But will it serve the greater cause?
Chorus: Don’t stop dreaming cuz this ain’t over Wreck of your life, aim til you get sober