You're lying on the floor, screaming quiet. You've seen it all before.  Going out, but I don't have a name, speak to me. Let me be.  See it all, but nothing's the same. What I see is not real.  You're lying on the floor, living, dying, waiting for the daylight.  Flying out to examine my mind, step aside. Let me hide.  Still afraid of what I might find, I do believe in the trees.  Everybody's gone. It's so damn crowded, debating with the daylight.  A journey all your own--are you crazy, waiting for the past lives.