I love music because the artists are there; singing, loudly into the microphone, saying something when everyone else is quiet. They say what can't be said any other way, and they do not hold back. Musicians aren't people. People don't express everything. People don't say what has to be said, people aren't singing loudly, how they feel, right to the world, people hold back, they don't know what they're feeling. They don't see truths musicians see, they never speak of them if they do. Musicians do better than speak of them, they put them through their ears and mind, and out their mouths, singing them just to invade quiet, just to fill an empty space, just to feel their vocal chords vibrate, just to be heard.

Too much time spent trying to crawl into a hole
Trying to crawl out of that hole

I followed a path of a piece of a bread, traveling
From one little sparrow's beak
To another little sparrow's beak

He picked it up, threw it and then dropped it, then
This other one picked it up and threw it and again
Then they broke it into pieces
Ate it up and forgot that it ever existed

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You and...
I are... like oil and water
We've been trying, trying, trying
Ohhhhhhh... to mix it up

We've been....
Dancing... on a volcano
And we've been crying, crying, crying
Ohhhhhhh... over blackened souls

Babe, this wouldn’t be the first time
It will not be the last time
There is no parasol that could shelter this weather

I've been....
Smiling... with anchors on my shoulders
And I’ve been dying, dying, dying
Ohhhhhhh... to let them go

Babe, this wouldn’t be the first time
It will not be the last time
There is no parasol that could shelter this weather

Babe, this wouldn’t be the first time
It will not be the last time
We tried to believe everything would get better

We've been....
Lying... to each other
Hey! Babe! Let's just call it, call it, call it
Ohhhhhhhh.... what it is

Oil and water
Oil and water
Oil and water