Myelin Songtext
von Arthur Moon

I started detecting
A cognitive rift
Executive functioning
A tilt of the wrist

When the myelin
Grows in
The frontal lobe


I won′t believe me
No licence to drive
I could ride my passing train
I could hide

And hold onto my
Fine white lines, ahh

Ooh, ooh

I could hide
Oh myelin

And hold onto my
Fine white lines, ahh
Fine white, fine white

Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh