Light flickers in my room

Planes flying by

Dropping down perfume

Blanket out the sky

Wander through the smoke

Grabbing for food

Choking on the air

Might pass out soon

Why do I assume these things are bad?

Burnt down?

Why must all those pretty be sad, somehow?

Sheep trip over the fence

Scared animals trample over the bed

Siphoning out my will

And it might turn out just like they said,

And it might be even worse in here

Even now

It's up to the trees with the fire storm