PSI Lyrics
| Song | PSI |
| Artist | Lydia Ainsworth |
| Album | Right from Real |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| No ceiling’s in the benediction field | |
| Tumbling through the contradictions, Dear | |
| Feel them crawling upon every limb | |
| Visions of a wold beneath the skin | |
| Feeling things we’ve known but never seen | |
| Hollow twigs that snap beneath the beam | |
| Separates us in our minds as if our passions could divine | |
| Sign from seal | |
| Right from real | |
| Places that we know we’ll never be | |
| Won’t stop us from our trying hard to see | |
| Through icy pastures laid in beds of mist | |
| And strange marks left upon our wrists | |
| When the fifth joins soft coordinate of Psi | |
| When the streets remind me of our hollow ties | |
| When the spinning settles me as in that place so far away | |
| We are earth and clay | |
| We are night and day |
| No ceiling' s in the benediction field | |
| Tumbling through the contradictions, Dear | |
| Feel them crawling upon every limb | |
| Visions of a wold beneath the skin | |
| Feeling things we' ve known but never seen | |
| Hollow twigs that snap beneath the beam | |
| Separates us in our minds as if our passions could divine | |
| Sign from seal | |
| Right from real | |
| Places that we know we' ll never be | |
| Won' t stop us from our trying hard to see | |
| Through icy pastures laid in beds of mist | |
| And strange marks left upon our wrists | |
| When the fifth joins soft coordinate of Psi | |
| When the streets remind me of our hollow ties | |
| When the spinning settles me as in that place so far away | |
| We are earth and clay | |
| We are night and day |
| No ceiling' s in the benediction field | |
| Tumbling through the contradictions, Dear | |
| Feel them crawling upon every limb | |
| Visions of a wold beneath the skin | |
| Feeling things we' ve known but never seen | |
| Hollow twigs that snap beneath the beam | |
| Separates us in our minds as if our passions could divine | |
| Sign from seal | |
| Right from real | |
| Places that we know we' ll never be | |
| Won' t stop us from our trying hard to see | |
| Through icy pastures laid in beds of mist | |
| And strange marks left upon our wrists | |
| When the fifth joins soft coordinate of Psi | |
| When the streets remind me of our hollow ties | |
| When the spinning settles me as in that place so far away | |
| We are earth and clay | |
| We are night and day |
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