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