I picture us over mountain tops
Over tree tops
Overcarefully steered the wheel
Shall I stand up, shall I sit with both hands behind my back
You see me through flashing lights and lies
Creamy disguise later
Burns a hole in my head
Would like to learn how to retire from stepping out of this
This average life
Who is to say, who is to blame
That the ears, they weren't made to disobey
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