From above do I see
The wonder of humanity
The sweetness of their ways
The passing of their days
And I
From below the sea
Do I plan a reprieve
Of mechanical maneuvers
Of time-line removers
... Sweep aside all worries and all hopes
... Sweep aside the sorrow and the need to cope
... For above and for below do we settle an old war
... And it is through the masses we find the door
A pocket full of spirits
A pocket full of ghosts
A pocket for the evil things
And one of heavenly hosts
And I feel
The weight of the world walk
Atop across your head
But do not be forsaken, my sweet
Do not be filled with dread
From above do I see
The wonder of humanity
The sweetness of their ways
And the passing of their days
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