And as I climbed the totem poles and empty catacombs Always a new column to be filled And with every night spent staring at my eyelids There was a story, yes, to be told And I leeched just like a tiny little parasite Till there was no blood left to be drained Now we’ll both be better off doing our own things Accomplish anything we’d like
I had reeled in the single bite I’d ever got From below my fishing pole But looking back I think that is naive I had no clue what was real
I had forgot the spectrum of the timeless beauty Until you opened up that door.