In Words کے بول

If we were all born With a pylon between our eyes Would we notice the grass? Through metal bars and siren cries? I'm running on highways And dust But I've never been home Well I know I must I am a mouth That built the hand that gave me life And I'll kiss her [?] Suck from metal teeth my fertile wife Cause I'm having some trouble Thinking straight To put it in words I hate to put it in words To long for the light A fickle wish, a fleeting wing But she won't be caught Tethered down and forced to sing Cause I'm having some trouble Seeing clear And I'll never get home I fear And I must be left For a little while to walk my road The ways back are shut now And I'll be left to tread alone I want to go home