Can't figure out how we got here Living on decay The 7 Words left on paper Will disconnect the day And you want a new want And you want anything that's clear And it's all around us As ghosted machines Would the real be just silent If there's a hole in the key? At the bar in the basement For an hour-glass of tea Our love is a violent Constant space in between And the taste has got a texture Smoke has not a sound The fabric that was fixed here Inherent in the ground And it's all around us As ghosted machines Would the real be just silent If there's a hole in the key? At the bar in the basement For an hour-glass of tea Our love is a violent Space in between And as much as I'd like to Believe there's a truth About our illusion, well I've come to conclude There's just nothing beyond it The mind can perceive Except for the pictures in The space in between The space in between