Vārdi: Herman Dune. Eleven Stones.

you have the eyes of a hawk and you see me through but the words of my songs are not all about you
and this body doesn't even belong to me
your hands are like wings they cover me and they cover the little things that don't have to be accounted for
or put in the record anymore
you're like a movie you make the unreal seem real and you make the real seem to come out of a dream
your words never leave the tip of my tongue you move in space like there's nothing wrong
you talk on phones and i weigh eleven stones
you know I've been around, you know I've covered a lot of ground
you know you are a mystery and I've always been a pedestrian