Pour my oats into a porcelain bowl
It's missing something, it's milk I suppose
I look deep and drip straight to the bone
I look deep and dig straight to the don't
Cause finding what I'm looking for will send me straight to the stones
Over dirt I roll, in silver plated chrome
Shovel out, gloves on, dig straight below
No need to tell me what I already know
That no one likes to borrow joy from tomorrow
Hole so deep, catch some bad vertigo
And throw up from the feeling, feeling like I don't know
Hope not zero, I hope there's soul, hope that breakfast will not get too cold
Everything will be alright
Hope not zero, I hope there's soul, hope that breakfast will not get too cold
Hope not zero, hope there's soul, hope that breakfast will not get too cold
Everything will be alright
Everything will be alright