come to send, not condescend transcendental consequence is to transcend where we are who are we? who we are trampled moss on your souls changes all you're a part seen it all, not at all can't defend fucked up man take me a for a ride before we leave... circumstance, clapping hands driving winds, happenstance off the track, in the mud that's the moss in the aforementioned verse just a little time, before we leave... stop light plays its part so i would say you've got a part what's your part? who you are you are who, who you are
