[Verse 1]

I'm not my father's innocence

The way that he dreamt me

Afloat in his mind

You're not the winter's wintermint

The dust of your travels gets right back in line

Now that we see this covenant

Should we go blindly and leave all behind

Into the fire we surely must go

The fire will burn through our hearts

So many doors to be opened it seems

The beginning is beginning to start

[Verse 2]

Why must the masses masticate

Drunk on these patterns

They lay forth and wait

Why do thesе colonies pollinate

Skin graft their lеaders and leave them to fate

Distant thought now we must validate

The hands to the circle

The circle [?]

The battle, the battle, the battle is on

Sebastopol on parade

The feeling, the feeling, the feeling is gone

We've mastered the art of charades

[Verse 3]

I'm not the undertaker's son

My eyes saw the glory

And took it for granted

We lost the hold on our happiness

Built up in fabric

It burnt like a dress

Now that we've seen this loneliness

Should we keep drifting until we're apart

Foreign soil where

The grass is so green

Your eyes will cast a spell

Chase the wind until it leads you

Back into the garden gate