With a will to fight
Gripping hearts are full of sight
Find the ghost inside of me
With a torch inside his tree
My poor heart is still so burning
Can you hurt me?

Strangely modern eyes
Craving every sight
Nuts are turned against us
Maybe this is trooper
The foxes avoiding the night
Just like the crows on the wire
Painting pictures without any lines

For the growing tide
Videos are so unsightly
My delusion is a curse
For the ones who make it worse
Now the magazine is lonesome
For short one

Never try to find
Someone with a smile
My points tell you stop it
Ride a rocket
Who understands what I mean?
I want to give you a green
Golden cradle humming to the birds