It is not wealth
To have more than others
It is not peace
When others are in pain
It perched there coiling light
Though that many years ago
I remember the feeling like it was today
A strange feeling like a living memory
Like a weird kind of stranja-vu or something
I want to know, I want to know
How can it stop when there's nowhere to go?
It is not victory
To murder thousands in battle
It is not health
To take vitamins and excercise
Then what's even stranger is the moment it left
The memory feeling, it grew very dim
And we all were in disagreement about what we had seen
And Trevor said, "If you've seen it, it just dropped you off"
I want to know, I want to know
Where was it from?
And where did it go?
All it's life, wandering
All of mine, wondering
It is neither animated nor unanimated
Vegetable nor machine, real nor unreal
It exists as 'It', in fact we can't even be sure of that
And there it is, a strange group memory
I want to know, I want to know
How can it stop when there's nowhere to go?
I want to know, I want to know
Where was it from?
And where did it go?