And we go into the depths to come alive in ourselves
Somehow we allow ourselves to forget
Some are prone to live in service of themselves
Others talk of revolution to spread around the wealth
Some say that only the strays can recall how they gazed straight at their original face
While the rest of us slave under the crack of the whip in search of some grace
To prepare for the strains that tomorrow might bring
Then something happens and you think you should've seen it coming
Well, maybe that's the case
That you didn't seize the moment when it came right at you
And you probably never will
Now, just because you escaped the crack of the whip
It does not mean that the beating is fair
So shelter the strays who seek out the way to make sure that we remember again