How could you understand. The way I feel about God?. How could you understand. Anything, about me at all?. . I am the wind, singing a sad song. I am a volcano and I'll hurt you all.
Beaches make the sand white. Make the sand all romantic and shit. Palm trees, branches, imagine them. Green, naive and shining with pride. Oh, arrogant island being buried in humility.
Got a brand new face. So brittle it falls to pieces. My bones are charred and soon I am ash. And I'm clinging to all my soft wickedness.
Landed in this place. Tried to make this island more like home. But there are some things better left behind. . We came here on a plane. Just a bunch of little boys.