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Over lands
Smooth and clean
Lover hands
Often speaking
Very quaint
Everlasting
Roll on paint
When it lasts
And it dries
Never peeling
Till she cries
So we pray
Might as well
In the end
Like we tell
Keep yourself
Trapped inside
Right yourself
As you lied
Your own heart
Rots to death
And your blindness
Rules your breath
Over lands
Smooth and clean
Lover hands
Often speaking
Very quaint
Everlasting
Roll on paint
When it lasts
And it dries
Never peeling
Till she cries
So we pray
Might as well
In the end
Like we tell
Keep yourself
Trapped inside
Right yourself
As you lied
Your own heart
Rots to death
And your blindness
Rules your breath