Texty: Forward, Russia. Nineteen.

Ancient sore oculi
Couldn't see the change
But blissful lights still happen
Through the darkest days
She strokes her hair
In the bathroom sink
It lost volume
It lost the will to give

I gave up
On falling asleep
As the hands began to shove

Before you've even seen it
The old horizon's gone
Another recollection
Of the blind, deaf summer sun.

But eyes are not the be all
And end all of the west
The east may hold a pair now
But maybe just address the doubts you have
There's no great rush to make this change

She showed some sense some time ago
When she was happy
She thought that this would make her happier.

I've told you for the fifth time
I've told you for the twelfth
I'll give up just when you will
You better warn yourself
You'll get left back
In the cold and rain

And now and again
Balancing your roles
I see you get bogged down
And though you say it's not good
Your life still lingers on
And so now, little gosling,
Don't become a swan.

I tried to be so special
And I thought I was alone
I wanted to be special
But I failed us all

So please, now,
Please just trust me
Your life still lingers on
And so now, little gosling
Don't become a swan