Besedila: Radical Face. Doorways.

when i was just a boy still owl-eyed
i liked to drink the rain to taste the sky
i tried to count the stars while in my bed
to keep the thoughts of monsters from my head

and i believed the stars were wishes
i believed the world was good
i believed things hid in the dark
and that all would turn out just how it should
i believed in all your stories
i believed you'd never lie
i believed if i could climb the trees behind the house,
i'd touch the sky

i believed the skies were doorways home