I push the pedal to the floor
And drive on concrete fields
My nature
Corrupted by influence
Happy to listen to silence
But always speaking back

Say what you needs to say
And it won't matter
Nothing matters anyways
Sing if you want to sing

I press these petals into books
And preserve them
Just nature
Corrupted by my hand
Happy to walk through fields
With dreams of boulevards

And I'm just a tiny giant
Head in the clouds
Feet on the ground
And hopes of making earthly heaven