Dormant

Steeped inside the dormant pipe of fishermen

It was always near

Kept out of the light, the bulbs were listening

In a forlorn fear

I won't explain this, I will regret this

It's just a matter of taste

You will expect this on every next list

This must have been the place

The heads of home affairs and psalms all disagree

On the better way

To get rid of those plaguing strokes of wizardry

And relieve the state

No good intention well worth the mention

Why don't we call it quits

Let it invade us, worst comes to the worst

We'll learn some useful tricks

Let it invade us, put our beds on fire

Let it invade us, put our beds on fire

Let it invade us, put our beds on fire

Let it invade us, put our beds on fire

Steeped inside the dormant pipe of fishermen

It was always near

Kept out of the light, the bulbs were listening

In a forlorn fear