When the world has turned
Paralyzed and wrong
Cold-blooded claws never offer
Anything at all
Past the point of love
Shattered and untied
Waiting to pick up the pieces
That make it out alright
But pieces of what?
Pieces of what?
Pieces of what doesn't matter anymore
Moonlight on my floor
Shining through the roof
They got the city surrounded
As if I needed proof
I forgot my fear
Feel it's on the rise
Buried by all of the pieces
Falling from the sky
But pieces of what?
Pieces of what?
Pieces of what we used to call home
Lay my dragon's teeth
And shallow water steel
At the belgian gates
I'm waiting for my meal
I think that the pices are indeed in the demension of thought or spirituality, places science can't reach? And so we fear for lack of knowledge of it all, maybe..
You know how everyone says if you put the peices together then everything will be solved and all right? Well peices of what? Nobody knows how everything got here. Why are we here? What really is earth, what are humans, what are animals, what at plants? Nobody knows.
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