Buckethead

Well uh,
What we are exposed to
Are only fragments of the universe:
Our sun, our moon...
We are like unto a dirty floor,
Collecting sand and dust as opposed to really what's out there.
Our sun, as we know it, is but a tiny flashlight
To this speck of dirt, we call Earth.
Yeah.
Well uh,
We cannot comprehend
What a real world is like
Because our world survives on itself,
Eating and eating and eating it's own.
Yeah.
We are scared of our own shadows