I'm sick of seeing you think yourself to death through carefully reasoned logic.
You've tied me to the tracks on your own train of thought
But it's helping me find my meaning
Can you feel it? Yeah, it's in every depth of this place.
Let me tell you - don't, I already know.
I can't just leave this, my mind solidified in haste.
I've got to shake this, I need to break it.
I need to keep control
There's a common source that keeps us moving
It's that common source that I am losing
It's just a pulse, it's just a beat.
It's wasting words in your backseat
But it's helping me find my
I wonder what I've missed. What's the point of it?