verse 1:
still painting pictures that put purpose into perspective
drop the needle on it & listen to all these cuts that i've collected
tore down the set-up & left town to water-walk
but never thought to keep my head up & almost drowned in utter shock
& by the time i'd found my way back to the sands of the mainland
i'd reverted to a skin & bones version of an early caveman
with no recollection of balancing on the wire
& nothing but sticks & stones i quickly reinvented fire
& burned myself a bridge just long enough to hit the deep end
then dove into a coma when i couldn't make the sleep end
i drove over the border on what started as a quick spin
& ended up dreaming myself seemingly to my wit's end
then there amidst the tremors & shivering rivers
i remembered every bit of bitterness last december delivered
& while the weather withered i was there to witness it first person
bursting into flames while this curse worsens...

chorus:
...& you can liken this to driftwood, smashing into pieces on the beaches
of this god-forsaken island, somewhere in the furthest reaches
of an ocean that has yet to be polluted by man
& they would call it what they wanted, but they all would understand
that it was driftwood, smashed to pieces on the beaches
of this god-forsaken island somewhere in the furthest reaches
of an ocean that has yet to be polluted by man
& they would call it what they wanted, but they all would understand...

verse 2:
in an age of death valley days & dragonfly nights
when every breath of the haze is intercepted by satellites
but every step into the maze directs me further out of sight
& i've been dead for days, thus this coffin & candlelight
by which i found the time to write the world this letter
on some: hey there, how's the weather? have things gotten any better
than they were before i left you all to crawl under this rock?
singing praise the lord & pass the ammunition box
squawking on a walkie-talkie frequency that's been obsolete for decades
like another walking head-case, talking until i'm red-faced
because no one listens anyway, so we built ourselves this getaway
then escaped to create in a place where at least the apes will appreciate
a little innovation from a race based mainly on faith
raised to waste space & say grace to save face
left tracing the steps of a million mighty idols
while walking the thin line between enlightened & suicidal...

chorus

...& you can liken this to driftwood, smashing into pieces on the beaches
of this god-forsaken island, somewhere in the furthest reaches
of an ocean that has yet to be polluted by man
& they would call it what they wanted, but they all would understand
there was a ship inside that bottle that was waiting to float
they took the wind out of his sails & he replaced it with hope
then he built himself a fire out of the lessons he'd learned
& set sail while the rest of 'em burned
& you can liken this to driftwood.