No mothers raising babies?
Machines to keep us safe?
No wishes starts with maybe
What will carry us away?

I'll face the skies to make me
Own cuz this Om creates
A sense of losing senses
Comfortable at it's own pace

Give me the wrong foresight
Tell me it's wrong and do I trust I cross-eyed

To look down on my chances
Red strap around her waist
Find the meaning in stances
That makes us free and won't make us pay

Give me the wrong foresight
Tell me it's wrong and do I trust I cross-eyed

These leeches will these leeches burn
Cuz real reachers learn from teachers who were reachers
So forget the teachers from the riches cuz these riches will burn
Cuz real reachers and their teachers see the future as it flows
And the wheel goes on

These leeches will these leeches burn
Cuz real reachers learn from teachers who were reachers
So forget the teachers from the riches cuz these teachers will burn
Like those riches because reachers see the future unfold
As the wheel goes Om