When I was a kid I had dreams I was being attacked by flowers.
I had dreams.
I had dreams.
I had dreams.
When I was a kid I had dreams I was being attacked.

What is it?
Wouldn't you like to know?
Well, I'm not going to tell you because I like to be mysterious.

Numbers mean nothing to me and neither does tomorrow.
Tomorrow's always new to me and I'm always unprepared for it.
But that's spontaneity isn't it?
and I've always wanted to be an anomoly.
It's always new.
It's a new day...
tomorrow.

I was dipping my toe in water that didn't have a temperature. There was a string choking my joints between my toes and where my foot began. It was a weight with a heartbeat. It was alive and pulling me under. And then the weight moved through my body and into my chest and I couldn't breathe... but I wasn't suffocating either.
I could sense black shadows all around me and I could feel my body twisting and contorting itself against them.
Black shadows.
Black shadows.
Can you sense the black shadows?
They live your closet, you know.

Colors mean nothing to me either.
And now the colors are colder and cooler and I'm from a different place.
And all these places I've been:
All the restaurants
the bathrooms
through the doors and windows
to church that one time;
they don't seem important anymore.

And they said it was all my fault knowing it wasn't at all.
They're evil
and selfish
and victims of all the paper filling up their ugly paper hearts.

When I was a kid I had dreams I was being attacked by flowers.
I had dreams.
I had dreams.
I have dreams.
I still have dreams.
I still have dreams I'm being attacked.