Fly in fear from a raptor
I funneled the fear through my ancient eyes
What I know are the bitter mechanics of life
"The lines are all imagined"
I know to hide from my little girls
I know my place amongst the bugs
And it's from these ordinary people
You are longing to be free
He's trying to get a rise
Let him look at your hands
Must've been a world of evil clowns
I know the lines are all imagined
I must impress on my little girls
I know my place amongst the creatures
And there are flowers in the garbage
And a skull under your curls
Composição: James Mercer
