| Outside, feet going in the wind
|
| Garret, rob it, a ray gun thief
|
| Run for your life feet on the ground
|
| Master of resorb so let it bleed
|
| Outside, not arise
|
| Gallant, a saywer, and he’ll cut a better stripe
|
| Blood lake, no destruct
|
| Bloody alligator gotta pricket free
|
| Out of the way the rhinal way
|
| Lies to live this talent way
|
| Lotta rivals strike and pray
|
| Auto lift and lie
|
| Staring far away
|
| Stars fall sideways
|
| Waking again
|
| See the sky rage
|
| You cannot kill him with ghosts
|
| Cite the hoard, demon green
|
| Hanging, depending on nothing ever been
|
| Out of line middle age
|
| Dig it got it loaded truck
|
| Last flight, never gain
|
| Head spinning, what was in that thing
|
| Death flight, lying to the right
|
| Croydon, and I have got another day
|
| Out of the way flies of grey
|
| Fire the engine right away
|
| Get in line, the bluffing road
|
| Bitter toss today
|
| You cannot kill him, they’re falling around him
|
| And bounding right off him
|
| These things just trail him are ghosts!
|
| Out of the window you can feel him
|
| Out of the window you can see him; |
| you can be him
|
| You cannot kill him with ghosts |