I'm standing still
on the verge of a well
looking down. losin' ground
as gazing at the sky
it's all blue and clear and new
birds are singing an eerie song
as the wind runs through my vains
and stirs the blood up until
it's full with redness of rage
for whom who sent this brash of wind

I'm standing still
on the verge of a well
looking down. losin' ground
as gazing at the tree
it's all green and beautiful and strong
birds hopping from one branch to the next
as it branches out to my body
and surronder the muscles until
they're too weak to resist
for I am taking the plunge..