Passes to sell, I went out
but no one knew what's a fete 'bout.
Started at 3:30 with ten,
and came back with nine.
Which was not fine.
Wanted all ten to sell out,
but no one knew what's a fete 'bout.

There's alway this glass, this screen, this wall
I can still feel the call
Fearful of the fall

Still I fight on, trying to break through
As bearers grew
I act the fool
With myself always in a dual

So no matter who wins
I will remain penned
I will remain dead
For my soul holds nothing but dread