Christophe Beck Follow

Just try to see yourself
Without looking through a fairy tale
The door opens and all hell blows in

All this torn skin, bones, blood, and snot
Reminds us of what we wish we were not
The door opens and all hell blows in

All the dust blown into a cloud
It's unsettled and can't find its way around
It keeps lifting and then it flies right out
It keeps lifting and then it flies right

Out to the sun
As far as it can ride the gust
Into the grass
To move with whatever comes
Into the water
To sink to the bottom mud
Into the water
To the mud

The door's open
And it's never going to close
The door's open
It's jammed with everything you know
The door's open
And it's what you've always known

Just try to see yourself
Without looking through a fairy tale