Summer time is a poem, but you don't miss me at all
You fell alive once again, but you don't want me back home
As heaven is so crowded I'd better build my own
Like a season not yet started I'll be waiting alone
When your garden gets floaded, you're so damn right to be worried
As heaven is so crowded I'd better build my own
Like a season not yet started I'll be waiting alone
Tatoos and blood are dripping
Around, no ink could fit your skin or mine
Can't stare at her she looks so
Terrified, you never know what crosses her mind
What's going on well deep Inside her head, what's going on deep inside