No equation 

to explain the division of the senses 

No sound to reflect 

the radiance of time 

In the beginningest dream 

Halls of disorder 

Where we are swept to encircle dawn 

Strapped in a low car 

Racing thru silence 

Trumpeting bliss 

You could kiss the world 

goodbye 



Standing outside the courthouse 

in the rain 

Seemed like a lost soul 

from the chapel of dreams 

With a handful of images 

Faces of children 

Phases of the moon 

One little thing you get wrong 

changes the dimensions 

Streets, swept memory 

Diffused and lost 

Like a prayer in the sun 



Sometimes you can't tell 

whether you're waking up 

or going to sleep 

Spiralling 

Unnumbered streets 

All the games cannot be yours 

All the sights, the treasures of the eye 

Does the divided soul remain the same? 

No equation to explain 

Destiny's hand 

Moved, by love 

Drawn by the whispering shadows 

Into the mathematics 

of our desire