There's a staircase in my living room, and it leads to nowhere land. There are flowers growing from my wall, they lend a touching hand. There are flowers that only I can touch, I must turn my back before I rush. To their self-destroying beauty, that only I can touch. I slowly turn and take a step, I feel a change that I accept. Is it a game? I will regret. As I play I see me winning, and I gave what's called self-pride. And I turn around with a smiling sight, to see a flower that has died. I feel a change, another change, another game, I will have learnt. I feel a change, another change, another game, I will have learnt. There's a staircase in my living room, it leads to nowhere land. There are flowers growing from my wall, need a helping hand. I feel a change, another change, another game, I will have learnt. I slowly turn and take a step, I feel a change that I'll accept. Is it a game? I will regret. www.mooji.org