Hope by and by, hope by and by –
motes in the eye, portcullis is shut...
a skull isn't much
of a c-c-castle to live in
when I know that the change is going to come,
the change has got to come.
Explosions in the brain attest to it.
evolution down the drain –
let all the rest do it.
Oh yeah, the only result
is cumulative drek.
It won't be the drug,
it won't be the s**,
it's got to be the Faculty X.
Looking for a method, I play a straight bat,
throw away the chances to slip.
Yeah, you talk about the average –
I don't care about that
and my words are only giving me lip
when I know that the change has got to come,
the change has got to come,
or what am I living for?
Or why am I here?
I'm running, I give in more,
far away from the near.
Go meta-physical world,
the sign that protects.
It wasn't the last,
it won't be the next,
it's Faculty X.
Reading seers, sages, prophets, obscurantist tracts,
draining the elixir to the dregs;
active yeast in the bottom is on the attack
and it leaves me without any legs to stand on.
Still I hope that the change will come.
Meanwhile I don't know,
I think I'll have to go,
go for the governing body
my consciousness elects.
It won't be so clear,
it won't be direct,
it's all that I fear,
it's all I suspect
and I'll disappear in Faculty X.
I pluck all these characters out of thin air,
I push them down into the lungs;
I infuse them with meaning as much as I dare.
Stretch out for the shoreline and wait for the wave...