Get up, son, hit you head like a drum. Weeds are all grown in vain. Too much time, I got too much time. Living in a waste of space. . Take yourself, don't break yourself.
Walking to the other side. With the Devil trying to take my mind. And my soul's just a silhouette. On the ashes of a cigarette. . Illusions never fake their lives.
He trembles in the bitter wind. Until it's time for us to speak. Whilst others here are sleeping sound. I'll slip away by floorboard creak. . Upon the hill he'll hear my secrets.