Backseat

Oh the snake that wriggles in your walls Dreams of an orchard it could quietly slither on Oh the hills, it would come till its scales are soft And the sun that would greet it with every dawn Oh, it's cold But it's only getting colder I drove While you were sleeping in the backseat Oh the breeze that whispers in your walls Dreams of an ocean it can violently scream upon Oh the waves that would mold to its every call And the sand that would rustle with every yawn Oh, it's cold And it's only getting colder I drove while you were sleeping in the backseat Sleeping in the backseat Oh, it's cold And it's only getting colder I drove while you were sleeping in the backseat Sleeping in the backseat