I can hear my own steps echoing in the woods Work is the essence of life, we can't accept that It would stay there with me, rubbing my hands against my temple And they're laughing at something funny beyond To be oh so sarcastic doesn't work every hour, every hour of the year You fall off when the seat has been taken, like the rest of us, we can't be real Get out of my sight, it's hard to carry those facts Especially when they're out of fiction We're standardized moralities, like hundred meters of hurdles Head distance to the subject that matters, stripe of colors in case I'm not resigning from an already existed tragedy Catch me lying down, playing dead and worried, or dig me up when I'm really gone It's favorable when it lies, but it's not like a resting thought You can't walk out and kick it down, like hundred meters of hurdles You had to shuffle small talk to pin it down I'm sarcastic and reply in that manner, but I can't get to the point Why should the actor even take his brushes up when they already play Judes from the western canon by Krishna and the west wind There is something funny beyond Something funny beyond Something funny beyond