Cross the sea
And separate me
Let me feel my body
And let me be
There is nothing
Cooking in the oven
It's just me
Just tired me
With rotten teeth
Thunderstorms, a classic scene
Quiet killers follow me
I will think these things but never in my dreams
'Cause [?]
I would kill for some other kind of cage
To not feel bored and out of place
But I know the answer's right in front of my face
