Hold my hand while we fly-over dream-land,
A microscopic conversation
Providince sits laughing like a candle,
Watching inside a window
We don't seem to have dreams, like a lever, only,
I got lost in my head, just above a whisper.
I feel sick inside my tree, so many take advantage.
A disguised cry so frank and lonely,
No one round to calm my hurting heart
I didn't wake, i only broke inside our head