Sharpen my body like a pen, come on I need to show it. Something too small for a lens, if I rub it, if I wipe it. Guiding with one single hand. Nothing's wrong, you like the feeling. I am all over the land. Come on, I need to show it. I hold my breath and then count to three, on and on, outworn. Must be five hundred degrees. Can't sail on, outworn.
Back on the mountain again, I was standing watching seasons. You're now my only friend. I'm too heavy. I'm the burden. Sitting and picking on myself, it's a shiny shiny morning. And when the light finds my eye, I'll be fleeting like a scent. I hold my breath and then count to three, on and on, outworn. Must be five hundred degrees. Will it show in my show?