Texty: Calla. Traffic Sound.

Over, trip, and walk
Crawl and call me up
Against a simple thought I thought I had

You, inside my arms
Inside my hands
Paralyzing every sense I've ever had

Over silent talk
Why'd She pick me up
Arnold in the backseat sitting silenty

Tracing passing lights
Tremble on with me
Dreaming of a simple life We'll never see