First, the ground rules get established:
Memory is historically inaccurate
But repetition, repetition sings
’Til finally the melody is sacred, rooted, unchanged

Patterns form and feel important
The starting lines of a living blueprint
All this information in formation is key
To draw a distinction between waking life and our dreams

It overwhelms the nervous system
This fearful constant state of comparison
In our grey matter, all grey matters
An embarrassment of riches in our heads
We gravitate to black or white instead

We were designed to send mixed signals
One image made up of different pixels
All subject to interpretation
’Til binary systems, binary systems run
And the vibrancy of everything becomes zeros and ones

Patterns form and feel important
It’s the first brush stroke of a self-portrait