• I walk on this roooad,
    long roooad with my hands
    which render thoughts
    to the back of my head.
    Which the clooouds
    drain the trees...
    sights of the seas,
    sights of the seas...

    The woords in a book
    cost more than a library
    which takes my mind
    into my brain.
    And the people I see
    go back into the wallpaper
    as the clocks strike
    12 on a candlestick.

    Nonsense is my viiiirtue,
    in which heaaaarts go
    into space...
    to break every dawn.
    And my cooooking stove
    broke through the floorboards
    of my soul...when it slept.

    The woords in a book
    cost more than a library
    which takes my mind
    into my brain.
    And the people I see
    go back into the wallpaper
    as the clocks strike
    12 on a candlestick.

    (Soft)Because nonsense is my virtue,
    the pillow on the bed,
    the umbrella under the sun.
    The controls for my radio,
    the radiator for windows
    which break through
    their roof of enlightment.

    (Acoustic Guitar Solo)

    The wooords in a book
    coooost more than a libraaaary,
    than a libraaaary.
    And the peoooople I see
    gooo back into the
    waaaallpaaaper...