You took everything
But you seem to have left it all behind
The clouds in the sky
My my my...mind;
Where has it gone?

We concern ourselves with those people
As if we can do anything for a dead mouse
The air turns to dust
And we can't grow anymore.
We concern ourselves with it.

Is it magic or dark arts?
Sympathy is exhausting
When you take the heat from your body to light the fires of someone else's home.

I'll spark your sheets to ash.