IRC-Galleria

Tool - Parabol

So familiar and overwhelmingly warm
This one, this form I hold now.

Embracing you, this reality here,
This one, this form I hold now, so
Wiide eyed and hoopeful.

Wiide eyed and hoopefully wild.
We barely remember what came before this precious moment,
Choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside...
This body holding me, reminding me that I am not alone in
This body makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illuuuusion.


Tool - Parabola

We barely remember who or what came before this precious moment,
We are Choosing to be here, right now. Hold on, stay inside...
This hoooooly realityy, this hoooooly experience.
Choosing to be here in...
This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal all this pain is an illusion.

Aliiiiive!

In this hoooooly reality, in this hoooooly experience. Choosing to be here in...
This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal all this pain is an illusion...

Twirling round with this familiar parable.
Spinning, weaving round each new experience.
Recognize this as a holy gift and, celebrate this
(chance to beeeeee alive and breathing 2x)

This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality.
Embrace this moment. Remember. we are eternal.
all this pain is an illusion.


Tool - Schism

I know the pieces fit cuz I watched them fall away
mildewed and smoldering, fundamental differing,
pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion
disintegrating as it goes testing our communication
the light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so
we cannot see to reach an end crippling our communicatioooon.

I know the pieces fit cuz I watched them tumble down
no fault, none to blame it doesn't mean I don't desire to
point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over.
To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communicatioooon.

The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it.
Finding beauty in the dissonance.

There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away.
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting
I've done the the math enough to know the dangers of a second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communicatioooon.

cold, cold, cold,
Cold silence haaaas
a tendency toooo
atrophy anyyyyy
sense of compassiooooon.

between supposed loverrrs
between supposed brotherrrrrs.

(I know the pieces fit. 7x)
I know the pieces fiiit!