No equation to explain the division of the senses No sound to reflect the radiance of time In the beginningest dream Halls of disorder Where we are swept to encircle dawn Strapped in a low car Racing thru silence Trumpeting bliss You could kiss the world goodbye Standing outside the courthouse in the rain Seemed like a lost soul from the chapel of dreams With a handful of images Faces of children Phases of the moon One little thing you get wrong changes the dimensions Streets, swept memory Diffused and lost Like a prayer in the sun Sometimes you can't tell whether you're waking up or going to sleep Spiralling Unnumbered streets All the games cannot be yours All the sights, the treasures of the eye Does the divided soul remain the same? No equation to explain Destiny's hand Moved, by love Drawn by the whispering shadows Into the mathematics of our desire
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