Lachrymosal crying, they say my soul it is undying, but my spirit is unflying as I’m trying to divine, what in my mind is pining and causing all this sighing and causing me to search, for more time more time, spitting out rhyme after rhyme, trying to solve this crime, it’s perpetrated against humanity by this deity, this supernatural entity that supposedly resides inside of me
And what is inside of you, I don’t know, and I’ll ponder this question till the world implodes or explodes, whatever it may be, it’s a problem you’ll agree, that my destiny puts into jeopardy the concept of free and what it left of me and how bereft are we and deft are we to live our lives, happily
And what is inside of you, I said, I don’t know
And I am pondering this question, cause that’s the way it’s supposed to go
And I would relinquish my will, if the time would stand still and I could hold you until these strings break
Intrinsic reflections on my life and its sections and its fretted, like the middle age man with his faked healthy tan in his luxury sedan driving home to suburbian lands, with his uncalloused hands but my calloused hands they search these strings to find something that finally clings that finely stings that faintly rings true, which is all I ever wanted from you
And what is inside of you, I said, I don’t know
And I am pondering this question, cause that’s the way it’s supposed to go
And I would relinquish my will, if the time would stand still and I could hold you until these strings break
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