You're lying on the floor, screaming quiet. You've seen it all before.

Going out, but I don't have a name, speak to me. Let me be.

See it all, but nothing's the same. What I see is not real.

You're lying on the floor, living, dying, waiting for the daylight.

Flying out to examine my mind, step aside. Let me hide.

Still afraid of what I might find, I do believe in the trees.

Everybody's gone. It's so damn crowded, debating with the daylight.

A journey all your own--are you crazy, waiting for the past lives.