Blind son man from Netherlands, he knew not what bands he mixed
They sounded a bit like a zephyr and a bit like the jicks
He craned his neck over the desk waiting for something to ride
And you weren't there to feed him air the second that moment arrived
1% of one is 1% of one is one
The band became a picture frame surrounding the vision he dreamt
Walls are walking round in squares dividing your room as they will
And there my friend the story ends short though I know it may be
The band swished into a tune and the walls were walking tall
1% of one is 1% of one is one
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