Poor boy he knows he's alive, he's afraid to
learn,

He don't want to get where he's going cos he
thinks he's gonna burn,

He can't handle being born in the middle of a big
black line,

No matter where he looks, to him it's just either
side.

Close your eyes when you feel you're going under,

Close your eyes; you can make the shore this
time,

Close your eyes; you can make it through the
wild,

... you can make it through the wild.

Poor boy he knows in this life he'll get hunted
down,

He don't want to make the transition into meat
that feeds the ground,

He can't hack it when his mind paints a picture
from an evil eye,

You can't wash the canvas now cos it's full of
dye.