The Space In Between

Can’t figure out how we got here Living on decay The 7 Words left on paper Will disconnect the day And you want a new want And you want anything that’s clear And it’s all around us As ghosted machines Would the real be just silent If there’s a hole in the key? At the bar in the basement For an hour-glass of tea Our love is a violent Constant space in between And the taste has got a texture Smoke has not a sound The fabric that was fixed here Inherent in the ground And it’s all around us As ghosted machines Would the real be just silent If there’s a hole in the key? At the bar in the basement For an hour-glass of tea Our love is a violent Space in between And as much as I’d like to Believe there’s a truth About our illusion, well I’ve come to conclude: There’s just nothing beyond it The mind can perceive Except for the pictures in The space in between The space in between