I kept above of my own mirror just like that
Where part of me will repose
Supported by it
So I don't hit the floor

Oh daddy no
You gotta stop that fever cold
Tell me who's that little bad miracle

Up at the border of the window latch
Where wooden pieces copy feelings of doors
Forget about it
I'm enemy of words

Not even close
Was I to start to smell the rose
Tell me who's that little bad miracle

And we find right why we came
All this time wouldn't be enough for the game

Oh daddy no
You gotta stop that fever cold
Tell me who's that little bad miracle