He carves the lines
|
In perfect a thousand times
|
And soon it will be
|
He sings a song
|
It's out of tune
|
It's all wrong
|
And soon it will be
|
His hands, they shake
|
Aface in not pine
|
And soon it will be
|
His lanterns he lights
|
Can luminate his life
|
And soon it will be
|
He tries to build
|
The fog lights can't be filled
|
And soon it will be
|
His hands they shake
|
Aface in not in pine
|
And soon it will be
|
And it sits in his right hand
|
But he never understands
|
And while nothing's getting done
|
He's just waiting to become
|
|
-----------------
|
Perfect
|
| Knapsack |
