Running through the woods
in my dirty Welli boots
screaming loudly to the moon
laughing like a bloody goon
I fell down on the muddy ground
My aching head is turning round
Now I see white angels fly
And demons in the misty sky
I roll into the filth, as grimy abashed pig
Misery’s so true as so desperately big
Feeling madly cold from the feet to the bones
As this sloppy soil or those gray, fuzzy foams
I see you’re standing on my side,
Caring my inner deepest cry
But I know, there is nothing you can do
To get me, for good, out of this blue
Maybe, I will be, one day, I’ll be like them
Part of a glad and shallow stem
But you cannot change who you are
Despite you walk away wide and far
