wake up the dying,
dont wake up the dead
change what your sayin,
dont change what you´ve said
now that its time that
i got out of bed

when i´ll walk myself
down sycamore street
the sun beats down
no shoes on my feet
and i stumble on
a daisy through concrete

pink and brown babies
in pink stroller cars,
know that it´s good
they dont care where they are
they know that home
doesn´t feel very far

when i´ll walk myself
down sycamore street
the sun beats down
no shoes on my feet
and i stumble on
a daisy through concrete

airplane is flyin up in the sky
makin a pattern
with the white lines
looks like a heart
or maybe a pie