The beautiful lull,
The dangerous tug,
We get to feel small,
From high up above,
And after a glimpse,
Over the top,
The rest of the world,
Becomes a giftshop.
The pendulum swings,
For the horse like a man,
Out over the rim,
Is ice cream to him,
The beautiful lull,
The dangerous tug,
We get to feel small,
But not out of place at all.
We're forced to bed,
But we're free to dream,
All us humans extras,
All us hearded beings,
And after a glimpse,
Over the top,
The rest of the world,
Becomes a giftshop.
I don't know what to believe,
Sometimes I even forget,
And if it's a lie,
Terrorists made me say it,
The beautiful lull,
The dangerous tug,
We get to feel small,
From high up above.
From high up above.
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