There's traffic in the sky
and it doesn't seem to be getting much better.
There's kids playing games on the pavement,
drawing waves on the pavement,
shadows of the planes on the pavement.
It's enough to make me cry,
but that don't seem like it would make it feel better.
Maybe it's a dream and if I scream,
it will burst at the seams,
whole place would fall into pieces
and then they'd say:
Well, how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's not so hard to tell.
No, no, no.
If you keep on adding stones,
soon the water will be lost in the well.
Puzzle pieces in the ground,
no one ever seems to be digging.
Instead, they're looking up towards the heavens
with their eyes on the heavens.
There're shadows on the way to the heavens.
It's enough to make me cry,
that don't seem like it would make it feel better.
The answers could be found,
we could learn by digging down,
but no one ever seems to be digging.
Instead, they'll say:
Well, how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's not so hard to tell.
No, no, no.
If you keep on adding stones,
soon the water will be lost in the well.
Words of wisdom all around,
but no one ever seems to listen.
They're talking 'bout their plans on paper,
building up from the pavement.
There're shadows from the scrapers on the pavement
It's enough to make me sigh,
but that don't seem like it would make it feel better.
The words are all around,
but the words are only sounds
and no one ever seems to listen.
Instead, they'll say:
Well, how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's really not so hard to tell.
No, no, no.
If you keep on adding stones,
soon the water will be lost in the well, lost in the well.