You are not a scientist
Nor a technician
You are but the packaging
For holy ambition
You are not an alchemist
Nor a magician
You are but a voyager
Light through a prism
You
Sweet sweet you
Indestructible you
Sweet you
You
Irrefutable you
Intractable you
Sweet you staying true
Oh we're familiar with the trope by now
Got us tethered to the past somehow
When there's no place left like home
You are not a tactician
Nor are you a statistician
You are but a beautician of the soul
You
You are not a tactician
Irrefutable you
Nor are you a statistician
Indestructible you
You
You are not a tactician
Oh look at you
Nor are you a statistician
Unbeatable you
Sweet you staying true
Sweet you staying true
Oh we're familiar with the trope by now
Got us tethered to the past somehow
When there's no place left like home
And finally we must retire
Concede the field to those we admire
While the horses froth and foam
There's no place left I'd like to go
Go!
You can sweat it out
But it leaks back in
But it leaks back in