A vine grows in the jungle like a line flows on a page A simplified correction caught and caged A flower whispers on your breath, it likes your cosmic style
A satellite embraced lives just a while
We, us the pharaohs, live for our own ideals Stained glass and tarot cards could tell us how you feel
Down by over up round here, through stiffs and sailors IÂŽll be home in a year
A tree grows tÂŽwards the sunlight as my heart grows to the east Forgotten loves and emails beg belief Five million silhouettes on call yet resting in a bay They wish for thirteen lovers each fine day
We, us the pharaos, live for our own ideals Stained glass and tarot cards could tell us how you feel
Down by over up round here, through stiffs and sailors IÂŽll be home in a year
A place to call your own - through a window
Down by over up round here, through stiffs and sailors IÂŽll be home in a year