Ah ... Towards the skies
Ah ... Towards the skies
Turn your face to the wall
That's where I'll be
In the crack of the paint
My eyes you'll see
Locked away in my mind
I must be free
Reason with myself I find
Life is treating me unkind
Run the fields of green
And touch the ground
Zipping on my ears
To hear a sound
Picking things to see
Up from the ground
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