And I can be a better sculptor for my own world now it'sgone! Although the tantric days to alter ways prove clearly we're alone. You only hear me when I'm song, that never wants to carry on. The bottles open for a year now that is spun, And If I was aching for a life you call mistaken now it's now done.
A gather reaching for a line a Dala's preaching come Alon. Insight confusion in between the laws of Newton sing-along. He only wants you for his song! And never cares to carry on. Two bottles open for a year now that is one. And if was aching for a life you call mistaken it's done. And were the places that you drove a while to face in, Chaccaron? In Cars to temples that were-places you remembered got along. A faulty test there for a song. In pause to question now, it's gone. A bottle empty but the next one's up and on.