i have tried buttoning my mind up tight
but every time i close my eyes
i see things clearer than when open wide

when i contemplate where i stand
marvel at my own hand
i coordinate a subtle slide away

from the day to day

all over your streets
and your busy feats
don't it seem
everything is happening and nobody sees
maybe it's just me

doesn't everybody know this is just a dream?
doesn't everybody know nothing's what it seems?
doesn't everybody poke and prod and hope

something they can't see
will release them from
the continuum
to find the universe is fair
i've never ever even seen the steam at the core
but i know it's there

my whole philosophy comes from a part of me
that you would only see around these parts
with rusty goats and hungry cars

on a desert in new mexico
i drove my backhoe
out to the arroyos
and talked to carlos
and he said i'm so close

but still so far

he said "up above the sands
of your so-called sacred lands
there is no plan
so just look at your hands
and remember it's just you

it's funny how you think this is all a dream
it's funny how you think nothing's what it seems
it's funny how you poke and prod and hope

that something you can't see
will release you from
the continuum
your curiosity fulfilled
you've never ever even seen the steam at the core
and you never will"

when i shift my weight to the other side of the bed at night
i am reminded that she's gone
from my singular path through the multiverse
and it makes me curse
every word i've spit
every world i've split

doesn't everybody know this is just a dream?
it's funny how you think this is all a dream
doesn't everybody know nothing's what it seems?
it's funny how you think nothing's what it seems