From ripe to rotten
Too real to live
Should I lie down or stand up
And walk around again?
My eyes finally wide open up
My eyes finally wide open shut
To find the fount of sound
That hears the touch of my tears
Smells the taste of all we waste
Could feed the others
But we smother each other with the nectar
And pucker the sour at bittersweet weather
It blows to our trees, swims to our seas
Flies to the last gasp we left on this earth
It's a long lonely journey from death to birth
Should I die again? Should I die around
The pounds of matter wheeling through space?
I know I'll never know, until I come face to face
With my own, with my own, with my own
With my own cold dead face
With my own wooden case
Pucker the sour at bitter-sweet weather
It blows to our trees, swims to our seas
Flies to the last gasp we left on this earth
It's a long lonely journey from death to birth
Should I die again? Should I die around
The pounds of matter wheeling through space?
I know I'll never know, until I come face to face…
It's a long lonely journey from death to birth