At the age of sixteen
I grew out of hope
I regarded the cosmos

Through a circle of rope
So I threw out my plans
Ran on to the wheel

And emptied my head
Of all childish ideals
The sleep of no feeling

I married the first girl
Who wasn't a man
And smiled as the spiders

Ran all over my hands
Made a good living
By dying it's true

As the world in my TV
Leaked onto my shoes