need some ism to get up in here.
Might not make sense to you
So much smoke here in the back room.
Swirling stories disappear into plumes.
Hiding those, trying to forget,
trying to find the power,
No justice, self -destructive,
their worlds came crashing under
And round they came, like moon, like sun
the breath of souls, new and old,
pictures that only with words can be told,
yeah, music is, um, music is, um,
in each and everything that
lives and breathes and feels,
familiar fabric you need, yeah, music
Have some passion to survive
is an ocean of difference, see?
Up here, in the back room,
music is, um... for the mind.
Not just a function we find,
Yeah, don't waste the mastermind.
The back room, our home, our tomb
The base child's womb, ha
I hide away from the world
Mu sic is, um, my soul, my breath
Yeah, music is, um, music is,
Music is, um, music is, um
Yeah, music is, um, music is, um
My life, my soul, my breath
All my life, my soul, my breath
Really all that I have left
All that's left there is really real,
4.8
