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, but the more that it comes I let it pass. 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.