Dead trees and butterflies,
You have the heart to look me in the eyes,
Calling out for warmth from a melody of cries,
But there's nothing on the outside

Let me know when you hear a sound,
Crashing through the woods,
Nowhere to be found,
You'll know it when you feel it,
Time to come around,
Tell me who's the one with the ******* crown?

Stake your petty rhythms 'till their memories,
Throw your simple temper to the simple breeze,
Dance and prance away to put your mind at ease,
Cause I'll make sure that your enemies,
Are nothing save a moth or a pile of dead leaves

You'll let your guard down, still full of pride,
Then the men come knocking with nowhere to hide,
Tell your children, tell your friends,
That's it's alright,
That's when I'll know that there's nothing on the inside...