Green trees lining all the streets
they hide things I wonder what's beneath those perfect little leaves
Lift me up, I wanna leave
I taste a sickness in the stream
My vision's coming in
My mind is slipping in
Hold me high enough to reach the seams holding back the real thing
I hear the vultures sing
Lift me up, I wanna leave
I taste a sickness in the stream
My vision's coming in
My mind is slipping
The seams are ripping and all this is nothing
Nothing at all