Pour my oats into a porcelain bowl It's missing something, it's milk I suppose I look deep and drip straight to the bone I look deep and dig straight to the don't Cause finding what I'm looking for will send me straight to the stones Over dirt I roll, in silver plated chrome Shovel out, gloves on, dig straight below No need to tell me what I already know That no one likes to borrow joy from tomorrow Hole so deep, catch some bad vertigo And throw up from the feeling, feeling like I don't know Hope not zero, I hope there's soul, hope that breakfast will not get too cold Everything will be alright Hope not zero, I hope there's soul, hope that breakfast will not get too cold Hope not zero, hope there's soul, hope that breakfast will not get too cold Everything will be alright Everything will be alright