Behind bars
Dressed in green
Talking trough
Some radio
I'm here
But not really
No not truly
Present
Crooked floor
Symbolizes something that was not before
Now she's out the door
Makes her way to fight another make-believe war
Leg drums
Leaf blower, wind
And I'm sleeping through it all
I'm breathing after all
My eyes open
Waking up for half an hour
I got to guard this god damn tower
Maybe this way I can find her
And I'm wishing I was back home
I'm wishing I was back home…