Engineer's Lullaby

Your head is full of things
You'd rather not think about
Gears spinning out of control
The math of it all drives you crazy now

It's getting late
Forget all your sorrow, forget all your sorrow
For now, the formulas
Will be there tomorrow, will be there, will be

You're so particular
Every degree must be exact
Not one cog out of place
And still your mind remains intact now

Your eyelids fall
No strength left to raise them, strength left to raise them
The numbers taunt
Oh how you hate them, oh how you hate them
It's getting late
Forget all your sorrow, forget all your sorrow
For now, the formulas
Will be there tomorrow, will be there, will be
Will be there tomorrow, oh



Credits
Writer(s): Timothy Whyte
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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