We'll be the scrapes that snake out from the centre of these keyholes
We'll be plain words that transform when somebody sings them
We'll be the ends, same as the means
All of your haircuts and baby teeth
We'll be the dumbwaiter spanning the distance from you to the depths
We'll be unbroken as real as any thought you've ever had
We'll steal a map, a compass and some dice
Roll a destination and always arrive
Always arrive
