Existing

Like a record spinning out of control Like a poet dreaming on a Sunday stroll Like a mime playing the beat of a metronome Where's science Where's the mind of Sherlock Holmes The world keeps spinning beyond our walls from Cairo to Seoul to the outskirts of Montreal Is there a plan for us all How long before the fall It seems grace is dying in our arms That there is Mother Earth's alarm Found a pulse but barely holding on A single raindrop disrupts this pond Is this the price of what we got wrong I can feel the ice break below and just beyond Is there room for us all How can we trust this trust fall Without dreams grace is dying in our arms Damn it's time that we disarm Have no memories of climbing this wall made of thorns Have no memories of being born Have no memories of spinning inside of this storm No more reveries being explored Have no memories of climbing this wall made of thorns Have no memories of being born Have no memories of spinning inside of this storm No more reveries being explored Without dreams grace is dying in our arms Damn it's time that we disarm