I [bad word] trees until they bleed, cut until I look well achieved, I braid a mask of leaves.
Fight to find the balance in between the expectations and conditions, melt two blades into one.

There is s a line, a mark where mist turns to clouds.
When I find it I'll place a cut, split my spine in half
There is a hook on which a rope to me is tied.
When I find it I'll cut myself loose.

For seven years in spheres of glass, aiming reflections into dust, we've emptied our [bad word] 
Will a kid dare to [bad word] his visions if no one tells him that he can undrape jewels in his eyes.

There is s a line, a mark where mist turns to clouds.
When I find it I'll place a cut, split my spine in half
There is a hook on which a rope to me is tied.
When I find it I'll cut myself loose.
We're cold, lone and deceitful to our kind, estranged wild dogs left behind, hunting reflections of the sun.

I [bad word] trees until they bleed, cut until I look well achieved, I braid a mask of leaves.