I want to go to a fantasy far away
I find sleeping so much better than being awake these days
Because everything's about the future past or successions
Prone long dead depression
Aliens falling down from the clouds
Who know somehow that the life I live isn't right somehow

Working hard is so boring
And relaxing doesn't exist
My life is a psychological thriller where nothing happens
Staring down an empty high street
Clouds don't cry
Clouds don't die
And when they walk on by
I wonder what it feels like for them
And more...
And more...
I wonder if they're full of painless strangled strangeness
And more and more