To be able to run you gotta learn how to walk with these demons inside. - Ike Moriz

It ain't the gold in your pockets - with everyone starving in rags. It ain't the size of your rockets - with all your foes in black bags. 'Cause carnival's in town from Sunday to Sunday. And everything's upside down, with rainbows in fun grey.

As the number plates drift by, my restless scanning eyes search for you.

You’ve taught me to blend in, wearing your fake cobra skin; It fits so tight, I can’t breathe in, but you make me hang in. Oh, every time and time again, you aim to stop my fire with paraffin. And while I play the mandolin, you’re dancing with Rumpelstiltskin; Oh, I can hold my breath for longer than you think.