I want to go to a fantasy far away I find sleeping so much better than being awake these days Because everything's about the future past or successions Prone long dead depression Aliens falling down from the sky Who know somehow that the life I live isn't right somehow Working hard is so boring And relaxing doesn't exist My life is a psychological thriller where nothing happens Staring down an empty high street Clouds don't cry Clouds don't die And when they walk on by I wonder what it feels like for them And more... And more... I wonder if they're full of painless strangled strangeness And more and more