Come to send, not condescend Transcendental consequence Is to transcend where we are Who are we? Who we are Trampled moss on your souls Changes all you're a part Seen it all, not at all Can't defend fucked up man Take me a for a ride before we leave... Circumstance, clapping hands Driving winds, happenstance Off the track, in the mud That's the moss in the aforementioned verse
Just a little time, before we leave... Stop light, plays its part So I would say you've got a part What's your part? Who you are You are who, who you are