| What’s it gonna take |
| What’s it gonna take |
| To free, the sea, celestial bodies |
| From way down here it looks so small |
| From up there it looks so small |
| One peculiar organism, aren’t we all together |
| Everybody steps on ants |
| Everybody eats the plants |
| Everybody knows to dance even with just one finger |
| What’s it gonna take |
| What’s it gonna take |
| To free, the sea, celestial bodies |
| When I took another look |
| The past was not a history book |
| That was just my linear perception |
| Ash to ask and dust to dusk |
| Dime a dozen, aren’t we just |
| And a dozen dimes will buy a crust of garlic bread |
| What’s it gonna take |
| What’s it gonna take |
| To free, the sea, celestial bodies |
| When I say celestial |
| I mean extra-terrestrial |
| I mean accepting the alien you’ve rejected in your own heart |
| When I say heart I mean finished |
| The last one there is a potato Knish |
| Baking too long in the sun of spud infinity |
| When I say infinity I mean now |
| Kiss the one you are right now |
| Kiss your body up and down other than your elbows |
| 'Cause as for your elbows they are your own |
| Wandering like a rolling stone |
| Rubbing up the edges of experience |
| What’s it gonna take |
| What’s it gonna take |
| What’s it gonna take |
| What’s it gonna take |
| To free, the sea, celestial bodies |