My troops are waiting for the little sight
My skin is right
The air is alive at all tonight
A gorgeous web of hands and arms and better chance
And metaphysics in the land
Now you can grow a little tree
Your emotions are rage
Now you can find the little bee
Quilting up on your face

You go to the house where they swallow you
I’m a tone
You go to the place where they call on you
Play a song

His lips are grating in the pin of wires
He’s quite alright:

My ending is nearest to my plight
(I wanted to know what he was like.)

Now you can find the wonder girl
Go to war
You ought to go to find the fear
Believe it’s fine
And it is fine
It is fine
It’s fine

Grip of emotion in the wade of right
I’m killing fire
I’m going too long for a little while