Oh, for I shall die and be at peace with peace and darkness.
Darkened roads so black as night is where I'll rest.
Covered with air that chokes the frequent springs of my chest.
Your setting sun is a concept of nonsense,
But then am I not just a traveling man with no license?
Erase my existence as those of previous time lines.
Foolish man uttering words of unknown language kinds.
The scarecrow scares those that come close,
And I was so close to wearing those dull clothes.
Your promises are not even yours now, are they?
A father sending his children to paint.
Rain, rain, rain!
Bringing growth and shape.
Well, my land it has no rain,
Should I die and decay?
But the Penguins said you're great.