riding high and wondering why
every time you look my way
I'm frozen outside of this hall where you played
it's a mess to be made
and I'm unsure of the way this will go if I try
and rely on your style to keep me off the ground
I'll see you around
maybe next year or next
or the next after that
and while I'm quite skilled
at keeping days short
my life occupied
I'll come back for a ride
nowhere left to turn
you're alone and you heard
me say what I want
is what you want as well
so follow me here
I'll walk you through hell