She lies on the hay, the rain falls on her face, the rain.
Sun hides behind the light, at night it´s not so bright, I quail.
Here comes an old dwarf laces untied
Give me gold and I´m not here
It´s easy to think that I was here.
I can see, I can see the lies of sunrise
Breakfast in Los Angeles.

I feel like a toy in a case of a sixty-year old man.
I feel like a farmer, who has never sown the grain. Imp again. (Yes I know)

Theres a pipe on your left side the plastic dog is watching me.
Im out of me and it barks, so ill draw my troubles on the wall.