I'm quite the fickle traveler
But I like to take it easy
Don't give me air
Give me treetops and towers
And I'll trickle between
The dead and the living
Till I sense your salty skin
So give me a break
Your hearts and your heads
Are not this fool's mistake
Cause unlike your race
Of desires on high
And telephone lines
And indoor beaches
I just want to touch down
Touch ground
Dig in with my fork
A simple lobotomy
That keeps you unscorched
And still they want to catch me
A substitute for fire's torch
So I'll make true your myths
Of ominous hues
And day after day
Give you bolts from the blue