[Verse 1]
What's it worth to be safe?
What's the way to be sane?
I could throw myself at the garden
On my hands
Prune the lawn and mow the roses
But I never really understand
How to go
To be free;
In the end I only want to be me

[Verse 2]
Winter days here are mine;
Still, no bites... what's my line?
I could hurl myself to the bonfire
With all verve
Clear the path and weed the dead leaves
But I really just don't have the nerve
To be part
Of that scene...
Is this just some kind of strange dream?

[Bridge]
So I'll walk to the steeple, where the people are so inquisitive
I could make it to the corner store and buy a hoard of derivatives now
[Verse 3]
Which way now... climb or coast?
Will my eggs ever poach?
I could hold myself in the frying pan
For the sake of my name;
Hit the road or smile hermetically
But it's really never quite the same:
And every time there's a subtle twist
I guess I'll grab my plot
And simply exist

[Outro]
Or would that be
A subtle slash at my wrists?