Does invention of the soul
Come from punishing the body?
Or is madness of the lonely mind
Just a prison on a dead sea
There's no center in this cyclone sea
There's no name for what you're feeling
There's no sound out on the open sound
As you drown what you're concealing
We speak things no one can hear
We echo in the sunlight
We did not ask to ve in this world
But we want to see things put right
There's no center in this cyclone sea
There's no name for what you're feeling
There's no sound out on the open sound
As you drown what you're concealing

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