DESCRIPTION:
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Lyrics:

Tiny increments,
infinitely small, impossibly infinite.
Indicating our place
in context to other instances.

Three limbs, independently
travel a set distance
The circumference of an instrument

Convinced that there is no option but to obey,
We commit to an idea
that leaves us feeling enslaved.

We pretend living in the confines of time is satisfying,
Wondering why it has to be this way.

We dance to the hands of a machine.
conducted to an orchestra, performed on routine,
never deviating from the score.
Never seeking more than the conventional means

Do we question our reasons to be?
Thoughtlessly following a routine,
never deviating from the score.
Never seeking more than the conventional means
To an end.

Carving faces into the sand,
only to be lost again.
Etched in time,
like the wrinkles in our skin.

We draw lines
and live by them.

Maybe structure is what we need
to give meaning to ambiguity.
Like a path to follow,
rather than wandering aimlessly.

I stare into the face of time,
and accept what I see.
I grasp the hands beside me,
By choice, willingly.

Because I know they’ll guide me.
They’ll guide me.
Because I know they’ll guide me.

Twelve intervals dividing the time we have.
_____________

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The Distant Fourth - The Chase (WORLD PREMIERE SINGLE) | The Circle Pit

Released in association with The Distant Fourth