---

And a dusted river of doubt
Is no place for a daydream
Still I cannot stay awake

My fingers slide a willowy five
She pulls me, baby, down
Through the cracks of mud
In the streams of blood
She pulls me, baby, down

In a dusted river of doubt
Is no place for a daydream
Science of the mind, bird of my soul
Wrap around me when a cold wind blows
Peaks to which we climb
Depths to which we fall (don't fall)
Steppin' out from a shadow
Where the shades grown tall

My fingers slide, a willowy five
She pulls me, baby, down
Through the cracks of mud
In the streams of blood
She pulls mе, baby, down

My fingers slide, a willowy five
Shе pulls me, baby, down
Through the cracks of mud
In the streams of blood
She pulls me, baby, down

---

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