What do I want? What do I wanna be? I feel that my dreams always show gold.
But it's really black and white when the copper clock shouts me.
What do I need? What do I wanna listen?
Many praise and respect of fiction or great sound of fact. But I forget the answer?
So did I climb the stairs? There is no sunrise? So did I descend the stairs? How it uses to be? Oh-no who am I? Was the way too much to ask for me?
No one knows the exit of this tower. The winds blow up and down. So I forgot the answer but I know what I wanna do now.
I'll please the working of under ground or know the view of top.
It's not problem for me as long as I sing and hope truth.
So I mightn't worry too much if you stay here now. But I fine by me because I know there's a way to get this another day.
I can sing about the night. It's funny. Lovely, glory green night. I never wander anymore. I promise you.