Out of the flying pan and into the fire
Swimming against the tide and sinking into the mire
I'm getting the hang of haning in blissful suspension
Letting the tongue in groove and following it's direction
Oh, but we can only fantasise
Death's kiss is all I need to find
But in the meantime I'll load my pipe and guess
Theres is a place where matter ceases to matter
And if I could take you there, we'd set up a home on saturn
Spin in a endless orbit, wheeling and reeling
Rever missing the time, the day or the floor or ceiling
Oh, but we can only fantasise
Death's kiss is all I need to find
But in the meantime I'll load my pipe and guess
Out of the flying pan and into the fire
Swimming against the tide and sinking into the mire
I've still got a lot to learn but I've learned to be thankful
The flashes of truth I've seen are worth the rentless battle
Oh, but we can only fantasise
Death's kiss is all I need to find
But in the meantime I'll load my pipe and guess
Out of the flying pan and into the fire...
Writer(s): Rosalie-jo Cunningham
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