Can't you read the patterns, can't you see the end
what goes around comes around, here we go again yeah.

Can't you read the patterns, can't you see the end
what goes around comes around, here we go again yeah.
Can't you feed your senses enough to realize to see
just how the story goes, the way the pendulum strikes.

Rest my head on the mushroom dust spending vacuum time.
Mark her turns with my silver brush watching from the sky.

And there is no difference no rich and open minds.
No change no further evolution, no wisdom earned by time.
Where's the point in racing endlessly
when it's enough by far to blow us clean.
It takes the day when stars fall from the sky
before our hearts gets wider than our pride.

I can see tomorrow with my rearview eye.
Our past will twist and turn again,
I see the mushroom smi