Feeling barely alive.
Looking around with new eyes.
Old sights now seem so signified.
And all that once was clean now covered in dirt.
And all the flowers in their beds, sleeping peacefully without a thought in their heads.
And cement came pouring down and the grey mixed with the green.
And all the pinks and yellows died.
What do with all our filthy lives?
I don't know what's wroth it when I haven't already died.

Oh god. Not again. Please not this time.
I can't take this one more time.
Her hands are lily flowers.
I'm some decaying withered heath.

These lives are endless hours.
Tear them down in twisted metal towers.
Get me something sweet to get rid of this sour
Taste is nothing but bitter flowers

Thousands of caves here filled with cowards
Who can't see the difference between strength and power
Get me something sweet to get rid of this sour
Taste is nothing but bitter flowers

Gathered sticks for a fire to make clear
All the things I've seen in the past three years
but this cement is still so overgrown
And I'm still lost, far from home.

You know that I dreamt from the tops of the roads
That I was nothing but a bird blown
In a storm before I crashed my car
And broke my bones
And sank to the warm waters below.