I descend into the land of brambles, where heavy vines cling to me.
So set sail that sail boat into the sea and call it a girl.
Beneathe the blue, beneathe the green, your'll never find me.
Most of the time I am my own best friend, on days like these I am a stranger to myself.
I descend into the earth, the wet moss, into the boundless boundless ocean waves.
You see, I prefer the moss, I prefer the trees. I prefer the company of me.
Alone. Alone. Alone, but never lonely.