Behind bars

Dressed in green

Talking trough

Some radio

I'm here

But not really

No not truly

Present

Crooked floor

Symbolizes something that was not before

Now she's out the door

Makes her way to fight another make-believe war

Leg drums

Leaf blower, wind

And I'm sleeping through it all

I'm breathing after all

My eyes open

Waking up for half an hour

I got to guard this god damn tower

Maybe this way I can find her

And I'm wishing I was back home

I'm wishing I was back home…