But why rely on footing when your feet desire the sky?
Who’s to make a lick of sense of every bleeding lie
We’re always fed from birth to death from waking till we sleep?
How are we, the simple folk, supposed to find somewhere more deep.
For where my feet wish “oh to fly”, my arms dig deep and deeper down.
And as my nails they did break my fingers then were ground.
But deeper is the only escape the only way to be free.
So dig deeper my friend we’ll grow at the walls: a story of you and me.