Light flickers in my room
Planes flying by
Dropping down perfume
Blanket out the sky
Wander through the smoke
Grabbing for food
Choking on the air
Might pass out soon
Why do I assume these things are bad?
Burnt down?
Why must all those pretty be sad, somehow?
Sheep trip over the fence
Scared animals trample over the bed
Siphoning out my will
And it might turn out just like they said,
And it might be even worse in here
Even now
It's up to the trees with the fire storm
