School of Design

I found a school of design
It was in a wealthy town, a river ran by
It was empty, holidays, who knows?
But I went in, I was killing time
Moving through the halls
There was fresh paint wet on the walls
Everything was white and all the clocks were well-designed
All ticking in time
And I was struck by a feeling
It’s hard to describe
The urge to bust through the ceiling
Stand, raise glass to the sky
Raise glass to the sky
I found the archives
At the school of design
Crowded cabinets of books
And so I went in, I was killing time
Turning pages frail with dust
I couldn’t help but smile
At the ideal shape and make up of things
Written like words divine
And I was struck by a feeling
It’s hard to describe
The urge to bust through the ceiling
Stars raise glass to the sky
Raise glass to the sky
Raise glass to the sky