On the outside, I am clean
The sun shines bright
But on the inside reside my dreams
Which are, truely, a fright.
I don't know where I am bound
But I do know what I am.
Might as well hop on a Greyhound
But I won't walk along with the flock of lambs
My soul resides in winter
But I'm trapped in California
It's hurting me, caught under my skin like a splinter
But no, I'm still giving off this cold aura
I am me, my mind isn't some machine
Cause on the inside, this is what I dream.