an open door is calling younto a field of freento a haze of bluento a state of mindnof a deepest sleepnfrom the crucified to a sweet releasenfrom a black despair to a love affairnin the colour field from the colour fieldnnwar is red, peace is bluenbut to hope for rednis not enoughnone misguided missilesnclouds for the biblenthe hand's reaching down controlling your lifenyou get no choice at allnwhen you're asked to decidenyou'll dig your own gravenwhen you spirit has diednnall the doors are lockednwhen a tear is knockednthe colour field the colour fieldnnall you need is a piece of mindnbut even that is hard to findnit could be under or upper ornon me or down belown...rotting you lost all controlnthe dream's gotten coldnit's kind of sadnsearch your soulnto the colour field the colour field