Somebody said to me once that everything alive
Exists within itself and can be expressed exempt from strife
That tale once told by that wizened soul has since been lost to the rime
Buried in the soil and nurtured to return again in time
But I'm still together
Sipping on whatever
And like the hands of the clock
I'll pace around the block
And wait for November
Suppose every moment lasts for the rest of our lives
And our perception is unbound and contains every parallel line
Could it be true that deep inside you is the only thing that can be known?
Seek for yourself, not for anyone else, and don't be afraid to atone
But I'm still together
Sipping on whatever
And like the hands of the clock
I'll pace around the block
And wait for November
But I'm still together
Sipping on whatever
And like the hands of the clock
I'll pace around the block
And wait for November