The skyscrapers taunt me,
while I desperately plead,

Hoping there's something waiting for me,
At the end of the world, now see,

In my palm is a handful of sand,
I gotta make use to blow out the fuse.

The gun's on the top of the canopies,
I'm gonna have to find the right tree,

To plant myself under and see until dawn,
So that I can sing for the right leaves,

Then I'll get on my knees until night,
when the sky opens up and I do believe.