Crayon Angel's songs are slightly out of tune, but I'm sure I'm not to blame. Nothing's happened, but I think it will soon, so I sit here waiting for God and a train to the astral plane. Magic rings I made have turned my finger green, and my mystic roses died. I guess reality is not as it seems, so I sit here hoping for truth and a ride to the other side. Phony prophets stole the only light I knew, and the darkness softly screamed. Holy visions disappeared from my view, but the angels come back and laugh in my dreams. I wonder what it means. Thank you for watching!
