I need to tell you what I'm missing.
It's an old way if it belonged to anyone.
I don't need you to blow the whistle.

Tucked away, late at night, I remember a good life.
It's pouring through a crack in the window,
wrapped around a blanket, but this is no body.

Half-asleep in the snow, I never saw off those wild, wild 
oats,

I know you need to be eased.
You feel like a sister, 
but those wolves in our love,
what is real about them?

Open up the yellow cross.
Don't believe the weighted cost.
And if time is a dream, it flips itself and your mind.

Half-asleep in the snow, I never saw off those wild, wild 
oats,
and the more that it comes I let it pass.