Power to the rebels with voices so feral
When a horn bellows, spit in funnel
Lying in the meadows
Wiring under shadow
When a storm meddles, strip then pummel
As I rely so much on trying to tie us to a floating piece of wood
And dry the glue in eyes to look inside
I get it done just for you
Lately I don't know how to please right
Multiple times it didn't seem to do us good at all
Amazing frame that was once so crude
Sorry for this, keeping account
Where are we going to
I'm in no mood for that game you play
Don't measure me going all the way