How high must I fly,
To feel like I'm getting by,
Instead I sit and cry,
Up towards the blue sky,
I continue to deny,
Your words silently reply,
But I know I am but a simple guy,
So why would I ever hear your voice nearby?

Tying to be so cold,
So that I don't feel uncontrolled,
I've lost all my gold,
And I've felt my soul already sold,
To the wind, away as foretold.

I scrape by on broken toes,
And ripped up clothes,
I have been froze,
In place, to decompose,
And placed into comatose,
So forgive me if I repose,
Your thoughts, as my foes.

Tying to be so cold,
So that I don't feel uncontrolled,
I've lost all my gold,
And I've felt my soul already sold,
To the wind, away as foretold.