My long hair it blows, in the industrial breeze.
My fingernails grow, down to my knees.
The light that's beside me, is just laves of beans.
All that i know, is not what it seems.
Cause i've tried moving out,
But i'm tied to this floor.
It's just like before.
It's the red of the world, that you see with your eyes.
You say that you're happy, when you're wanting to die.
Oh well, it's just like before.
Oh well, it runs in your veins.
Just like before.
It keeps it the same.
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