Plans form from seeds that tend to slip inside a mind,
Sounds that echo slowly off of objects to inspire,
Broken meanings dripping off of walls into the fire,
Objects rearrange from meanings stored inside of slime.

Meanings build and pressure turns to make the two combine,
The words that slipped inside the mind that the person so admired,
As well as the person standing there to hear them from the choir,
Words and people mix to make instruction mix with time.

Speeches, songs, and poems can change the world we live to life,
Our arms and legs and ears and mouths control what is and what is not,

The force is split in two to form us what is wrong and what is right,
We do the good we can and all the wrong is all we've ever fought,

The game is contradiction of ourselves as there is day and night,
Perfection is impossible we make mistakes until we rot.