Lyrics:

Hiding in the dying ember buried in your head
echo of the specter's whisper swept under the bed
something slightly off about the words she said

'I'm an eager vessel waiting to believe'
'I am the antenna ready to receive'
She's a simple sponge, and easy to deceive

Small, unspoiled child waiting by the stair
staring up to heaven, who will lead her there?
Slowly she's discovering no one's there

Some subversive seed, a cynic's notion - death's aperitif
set this child to reason, accidentally pave the path to grief
Now her notion's skipped the boundary into mass belief

Diving in, unguided, in relentless search for 'real'
not equipped to handle all the logic she'd reveal
Science found her answer, now no one feels

Wholeness skips horizons beyond where we can see
we put our faith in her, but she is us - and who are we
but a skeptic's generation waiting to believe