Sunday morning walking in the streets
I feel alive, I feel its time, for me
to sync with what is mine, what is time
and what is right.
All the trees are growing round me
underneath they turn on me...
you turn on me...
don't turn on
Free me, please free me, please
Monday morning riding in my car
we talk through lines, the lines
divide the things that bind me
with what is real, and what is mine,
and what is time, and what is right.
All the lines are growing round me
underneath they turn on me...
they turn on me...
don't turn on me, you turn on me.
Free me, please free me, please
think about time, think about life
think about everything left behind...