Lyrics
(Verse 1)
In a world where the imperative calls,
We take a provisional path, through it all.
Where the teeming streets with a foul air,
Hold a pledge in our hearts, we won't falter.
(Chorus)
To the clinic we go, for a stimulus true,
An omen of hope, in the mucoous dew.
Tuck away your fears, in the night's silent shroud,
For an impromptu song, in the pliable crowd.
(Verse 2)
With profiles high, we stand intact,
A treatise on life, peer-reviewed, and exact.
In the traction of time, we find our wit,
To quench the thirst of the obscure, and ignite.
(Bridge)
Burial of sorrow, in a vessel of grace,
An abundance of love, in every embrace.
A brochure from the book, of our perennial place,
In the fusion of light, we find our trace.
(Chorus)
To the clinic we go, for a stimulus true,
An omen of hope, in the mucoous dew.
Tuck away your fears, in the night's silent shroud,
For an impromptu song, in the pliable crowd.
(Verse 3)
With a fare that we pay, for the journey we take,
Through the clause of life's pact, and the vows that we make.
An attendant to our quest, in the colossal fight,
We'll survive every commute, never lagging in sight.
(Bridge)
In the glare of the day, we must not ponder or lag,
For each ponderous glare can perplex the mind's eye.
Burial of doubt, in the vessel of our dreams,
Where drowning in fear is not the path that it seems.
(Chorus)
To the clinic we go, for a stimulus true,
An omen of hope, in the mucoous dew.
Tuck away your fears, in the night's silent shroud,
For an impromptu song, in the pliable crowd.
(Outro)
As we tread through the night, with a pungent delight,
Our plight is not drowned, but takes flight.
With an excerpt of hope, from the treatise we wrote,
In the abundance of love, we have found our lot.
(Chorus)
To the clinic we go, for a stimulus true,
An omen of hope, in the mucoous dew.
Tuck away your fears, in the night's silent shroud,
For an impromptu song, in the pliable crowd.
(Outro)
As we tread through the night, with a pungent delight,
Our plight is not drowned, but takes flight.
With an excerpt of hope, from the treatise we wrote,
In the abundance of love, we have found our lot.
