Half-alive, dragging ourselves through the trees,
Our legs seem to be missing.
They might be up and living our dreams,
I can feel the thorns scrape my elbows,
Can you feel it too?

Verify if you're real with a wave of a white flag,
From the depths of the undergrowth,
We're getting scratched up by unforgiving roots.

When the blue moon sets over the horizon,
The sun starts to rise and I'm left alone,
The thoughts in my head leave me to be,
Is this good? I don't really know.
I've spent a good portion of my life wondering if i'll even live past 18,
Though the background is static,
Everything in front seems to be happy to be here.

Verify if you're real with a wave of a white flag,
From the depths of the undergrowth,
We're getting scratched up by unforgiving roots.

Changing or cursing- either way,
It's a game we're done playing,
Our legs may be long gone,
Fortunately, you're right here,
So I'll stare at these stars until I figure out you're truly here to stay.