Steel train hummin' after Scott starts to sail Well, they shine up like hair rails South consume my thought I start to pick everything apart Like I would rather sip my milk through a paper straw I reflect on the world that I've seen Between ground flow and the mezzanine. My shoe lace is busted But it won't make the escalator stop Should I get pulled in on top Carefull not to step on my light It might become electrofied Still I draw conclusions on the things I've observed Even before I was eighteen Between ground flow and the mezzanine. And bees make slum honey From an old dye sewn in a paper cup I'd rather hide than to say, "What's up?" And if I whistle a tune It passes off from room to room Still I'd take time and note the sun shinin' through, it red All I caught was a daydream Between ground flow and a mezzanine.