Staring through glasses with no lenses At a tree climbing the sky. Our father seems to have lost his senses As he stands before our burning home With an olive branch in one hand, the other holding circumstance; Evidence, if you will... Gasoline dreams from a wishing well. I was so young; we were so innocent at a time when innocence made sense. The flames laughed at us as I held you in my arms. Youth would not be wasted on us; we both have come so far. What have I become? How could this have happened? I was so careful, I wore the garbs of a saint with stained-glass cufflinks. I'd forgotten what I was looking for. Power is flowing but the bulb is blown, I have no faith to call my own. With an olive branch in one hand, the other holding circumstance; Evidence, if you will... Gasoline dreams from a wishing well. As I stumble onto broken knees, screaming at broken sleeping ghosts On a hill with three trees... The royalty is coming for my loyalty. Even Carpenters make mistakes, measure once cut twice. I am so very apathetic. You abandon me. Cradled in my mother's arms, my reserves have been set free.