I keep having these dreams.
Running dreams, climbing dreams.
And they're after me.
I run and I climb through a hole in the top of a closet
and hide under a pile of dirty clothes.
And they find me and just stand there.
They don't say anything.

I wonder what it's like to be them.

I wanted to be a butcher, a jolly butcher
Why doesn't everybody wanna be a butcher?

Don't you see there is no 'she' now?
Don't you see there is no 'she' now?
Don't you see there is no 'she' now?

We are simple
You are simple
Life is simple, too

We were just the nameless
Souls that sit inside

Is obscurity itself the test tube of tomorrow,
Or is just the testing done to pave the way for sorrow?

Do you ever
Do you ever
Wonder who you are?

I told myself there must be some way I can make them just be who I want to be with all the time,
'cause it kept me at a distance, but my senses kept insisting it was much more interesting inside.