It's informing claustrophobia
You've been waiting for the end of the line
Where all those big bad thoughts go
I don't know where I slept last night
At least not insomnia
I won't go to sleep for a while
You always ask me: What's wrong with ya?
Deep rest for the third kind
I must forget you
To the back of my mind
Not to drown in my sorrow
Because if it's from the swamp then
Back it goes
I must have met you in another life
Or so it goes
If you think I'm letting you wade on through
All of the emotions I own
Then if it's from the swamp
And back it goes
Well, if it's from the swamp
And back it goes
Back it goes
Back it goes
Back it goes
Back it goes
