Many ways I've tried it, But voices told me I wasn't right. And in the best cases People gave me a thousand maybes. Getting small or tall Through the doors to get the crown. But it's not done at all. Communication's breaking down. I just try not to see their mad way of life. This is my hole-home, And I hope I could get it warm. I can't stop being wrong About my own way of getting old. Now I have no reply. In fact it has never been sent. Now I have no advice. Communication's broke again. I just try not to see their mad way of life.