Prehistoric Plan

Lyrics

There is no solid ground beneath the heavy boots of man Just the shivering vibrations of a prehistoric plan The chalk is scratching circles on the surface of my soul Trying to make the fractured parts into a whole I see the world as tension, just a shivering of wire A frantic oscillation in a geometric fire Oh the universe is pulling on a silver-threaded strand And I am just the ghost of a holographic hand Vibrating in the darkness where the hidden axis meet A symphony of solitude that never feels complete We're braided in the marrow of a ten dimensional dream Falling through the fissures of the fundamental seams I map the hidden volume of a world I cannot touch While clutching at the logic like a desperate wooden crutch If every star is tethered to a microscopic loop Then we are just the liquid in a deterministic soup Oh the universe is pulling on a silver-threaded strand And I am just the ghost of a holographic hand Vibrating in the darkness where the hidden axis meet A symphony of solitude that feels complete We’re braided in the fractals of a ten-dimension dream Falling through the fissures of the fundamental seams The math provides no mercy for the ache within the chest It only counts the entropy and leaves behind the rest I’m searching for a reason in the flux and in the fray While the strings are slowly pulling all my certainty away There is no solid ground beneath the heavy boots of man Just the shivering vibrations of a prehistoric plan