It's cold again, it looks like rain
A procession of humanity, strikingly simian
Saunters by, I can't explain
Why it's troubling to see them so
Oh, better than who we are
With mania and yearning for and learning from
Oh, better than holiness
And candy aisles of loneliness and sweet revenge
A cigarette, a memory
All connections to the permanence of burning
The pedestal gets in the way
And cannot withstand our honest scrutiny
Oh, better than who we are
With mania or standing for or dead against
Oh, better than holiness
And candy aisles of loneliness and sweet revenge
Do you feel the chill of December in the rioting of spring?
And are we made of something better than clay?
A leap, a fight, a secret rite
The lonely quest for meaning and the universe is dreaming
Oh, better than who we are
With mania and yearning for and learning from
Oh, better than holiness
And candy aisles of loneliness and sweet revenge
