Potential, well, you’re a loaded line
The veil between the world and the faceless bride
There’s nothing yet but a bunch of white
Oh potential, well, you’re a loaded line
Tomorrow, well, I will wait for you
Laying right here, floating in this swimming pool
There’s a lot of things I’ve got left to do
Oh tomorrow, but I’ll wait for you
The days keep slipping down into the cracks
It takes a while to realise where you’re at
Slowly (so slowly)
Slowly (so slowly)
Slowly, it’s slowly ending
Dementia, you better treat me good
The human race is in its second childhood
I never learned, but I understood
Oh dementia, you better treat me good
Sometimes I need a place to go
Classical music plays from the radio
I sit real still, let my shadow grow
Yeah, sometimes I need a place to go
My mind keeps slipping back into the past
I hope someday I can get it back
Slowly (so slowly)
Slowly (so slowly)
Slowly, they’re slowly ending
And soon that train is going to pull away
I hear it whistling, I try to wave at a glowing face
They can’t tell who I am
Slowly (so slowly)
Slowly (so slowly)
Slowly, it’s slowly ending
Epistula Rasa 