Из альбома: The Sound the Hare Heard
Well you don't fit in, thank god.
But you don't know what you've got,
So you try to be like them, but you're not
And you're almost dead, almost dead, you're almost dead
And I wish I could hang out up in the sky and be the light to shine you home
So I write another fucking song about the darkness
And how you're not alone
You try to find a hole
Deep enough to lie in
There's comfort in the cold, I know
When you're almost dead, almost dead, you're almost dead