Sometimes there ain’t no reason to go on or so it seems
but you go on, yeah you roll on, yeah you go on to extremes
just to justify the flesh and bone that holds your soul in place
and keeps your sort of grounded in interstellar space.
Sometimes the road seems endless and the tracks don’t take you home.
You end up in the Land of Nod, outside the Church of Rome.
Looking for an angle but you just can’t find a trace
of anything to keep you hanging on in interstellar space.
Sometimes the night goes on and on, you yawn and yawn again.
There ain’t no “hallelujah”, you can’t muster an “amen.”
You got no one beside you and no one to kiss your face
and tell you it’s worth hanging on in interstellar space.
When your still and peaceful center has become a raging storm
and you don’t want to die but you sure envy the unborn:
that’s when you recall the world is all that is the case.
But there’s more than the world, oh yeah, there’s interstellar space.
Sometimes the murdered moments, they just trample down your time
and you hardly dare to ask for anything that’s too sublime
but if you don’t ask for more then, son, you best pick up your pace.
The road is long; it arches over interstellar space.
You know you look about the same as last year at this date.
If you’re declining then at least it’s at a steady rate.
But the problem’s not the decline nor the various embraces:
it’s the fact that outside this one there’s more interstellar spaces.