Saying, “I'd rather not know what the weather's going to be”, I leave my umbrella behind
Those rain-like tears have been overwritten by a lie that's far too kind.
The fragments of sky I kept locked in a box,
Won't fit into this puzzle of the future.
Endless circular reasoning spews forth noise
Logic that could even fool the gods,
Moving onward to that place of promise ───
Knowing nothing about the universe, we'll open Gate 0 –
Everything will be reduced to particles, then restored!
When that happens, I'll tie down those parts of your consciousness on the verge of breaking,
And living those same moments, in that same place… your “time” will begin… once again!
Precious memories are negated by a different theoretical formula;
The event horizon… even all creation… have been overwritten.
The fragments of love I kept locked in a box,
Are close, yet too far – at the farthest reaches of this dimension.
The modification process proceeds so simply:
A fiction that could even fool the gods,
Moving onward to that place of promise───
Soon the alarm on our clock will go off and we’ll open Gate 0 –
We’ll be enveloped in radiant light!
Miracles will be rewritten as fate, laughing voices will fill the air,
And living those same moments, in that same place… your “time” will begin… once again!
Knowing nothing about the universe, we’ll open Gate 0 –
Everything will reduce to particles, then be restored!
When that happens, I’ll tie down those parts of your consciousness on the verge of breaking,
And living those same moments, in that same place… your “time” will begin… once again!
