All of my lyrics seem to come
When my fear is not around
And the nearest thing is paper
So I'm writing down whatever
Thought that pops up in my mind
You know what holds us is a line
Of some soldiers made of letters
Guarding shelters of the saddest
Things that someone had ever wrote
Still there's no one clever for
Telling us those magic secrets
We all seem not to know
Giving us the keys
For the handcuffs of our souls