Everyday you still come and visit me; you're supposed to be resting. It's in my head, but you're not where you're supposed to be and you're unconfessing. Anyway, I see you from afar, but it's not really you. From my shoes, it's not really so bizarre, but the bases are true, but the sky is still blue and I can't find a way to leave you.
In my sleep, I dream of these open fields, so euphoric and peaceful. When I wake, I pretend that this bass is real, but that way it sees full. (?) I can pray for a way to alter time, so I could absolve you. From where I'm at it seems like it's such a crime, but the bases are true, yours I cannot pursue and I can't find a way to leave you.