Poor boy he knows he's alive, he's afraid to
learn, He don't want to get where he's going cos
he thinks he's gonna burn, He can't handle being
born in the middle of a big black line, No matter
where he looks, to him it's just either side.
Close your eyes when you feel you're going under,
Close your eyes; you can make the shore this time,
Close your eyes; you can make it through the wild,
... you can make it through the wild. Poor boy he
knows in this life he'll get hunted down, He don't
want to make the transition into meat that feeds
the ground, He can't hack it when his mind paints
a picture from an evil eye, You can't wash the
canvas now cos it's full of dye.