To clutch at life, as in a dream,
To cling to the bubbles in it,
As the man, the straw, the stream,
Are eddies of the infinite.
Artificial desperation sent you scurrying back to me
After the trial separation that left us momentarily free.
Just some temporary recreation
Before the final alienation,
And that one sweet inspiration
That secured my destination
And sent me hurrying out to sea.
Too much of strife can make it seem
To bring you a trouble a minute,
As the span across the stream
Readies me for the infinite.
The angry crowd's reaction sent me scrambling for the door,
Wishing my contrite retraction had made it there before.
Just a momentary inaction
Measured in the smallest fraction,
Just a tiny loss of traction,
Before I burst into action
And quickly evened up the score.
You touch your wife's long dark moonbeam;
Two rings form the double limit,
As the plans you draw in dreams
Head East toward the infinite.
To clutch at life, as in a dream,
To cling to the bubbles in it,
As the man, the straw, the stream,
Are eddies of the infinite
Artist: At The Gates
Artist: A Fine Frenzy
Artist: Jay Rock