| Somewhere in these private minds, | |
| The last one comes out just in time | |
| To clear out the chambers and sew up the lips, ' | |
| Cause that's the price to pay for hoping every slip's not a slide. | |
| In other words not to get it wrong, | |
| It's pointless to walk when it's past time to run. | |
| Secured under the weight of watchful eyes, | |
| Lulled to sleep under clear expansive skies. | |
| Somewhere in these prying hearts | |
| Conflicting histories tear us apart | |
| And we hope we don't get what we deserve, | |
| Hide behind the targets in front of all the people we serve. |
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