I ran into the woods and sing
I ran to the beach and then I cried
lonely, lonely and alone
I hate
I'm cold uproar
I'm going on the market
I am bored with the tired
and get the hell have you been concentrated
as if my own sooty
Just break the glass
'll let busy moaning to rowdy
Ah ... there are angels embroidered gossamer white stripes on the walls of the palace
why not just shake the bell let scourged
Or I must flee to the forest
Turn to the beach ...
