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