by peter gabriel...

folded in your fleshy purse
i am floating once again
while the muted sounds are pumping rhythm
all the walls close in on me
pressure's building wave on wave
'til the water breaks - and outside i go, oh

one dot, that's on or off, defines what is and what is not, one dot
two dot, a pair of eyes, a voice, a touch, complete surprise, two dot

growing up, growing up,
looking for a place to live
growing up, growing up
looking for a place to live
growing up, growing up,
looking for a place to live

my ghost likes to travel so far in the unknown
my ghost likes to travel so deep into your space

three dot, a trinity, a way to map the universe,
three dot
four dot, is what will make a square, a bed to build on, it's all there,
four dot

my ghost likes to travel so far in the unknown
my ghost likes to travel so deep into your space

all the slow clouds pass us by
make the Empire State look high
as you take me in your sea-stained sweetness
it spills, it tingles and it stings
all the pleasure that it brings
'til the door has let the outside inside here

well on the floor there's a long wooden table
on the table there's an open book