Skin off like lightning
Breathing flames from tourist trade
Your eyes go quite frightening
You lock your gaze on to my face
Heavy eyed
Crawling on the roadside
Swinging from the street lights
I hope by the morning I will have grown back
By the morning I will have grown back
I'll escape with him
Show him all my skin
Then I'll go
I'll go home
Amsterdam
I'm a flying kite in the breeze just
Restlessly seeking images a child needs to help them sleep
I've been thinking that I should see someone
Just to find out if I'm alright
By the morning I will have grown back
By the morning I will have grown back
I'll escape with him
Show him all my skin
Then I'll go
I'll go home
Amsterdam
I used to dream of
Adventure
When I was younger
With lungs miniature
But now we're killing
Our brain cells
Is this called living
Or something else
Or something else
By the morning I will have grown back
By the morning I will have grown back
By the morning I will have grown back
By the morning I will have grown back