It's gotten cold in here. But asylum warmth draws near. And with a gentle touch of these burdens. And such fears are wiped clear. Who says you ought to stay?.
It goes up, it goes down. It goes any way the wind would like to throw it around. I was lost, now I'm found. I put my hands in the air and my knees to the ground, yeah.
Where I come from. You say things will be well and fun. Though the world around you is crumbling. And the truth bleak as a bee. Stay close believe, though things are not what they seem.