Imagine the world
as one great divine victrola phonograph
And it's playing the human groove
that god himself cut with his own bare hands
And right now
the needle is passing over you and I
We're just like sonic tattoos,
our voices are etched in the black wax of time
Now that we're alive
let us send a song up to our lord
Sustaining the chord sounded long ago in our ancestors' time
And right now
the needle is passing over you and I
We're just like sonic tattoos,
our voices are etched in the black wax of time