He carves the lines In perfect a thousand times And soon it will be He sings a song It's out of tune It's all wrong And soon it will be His hands, they shake Aface in not pine And soon it will be His lanterns he lights Can luminate his life And soon it will be He tries to build The fog lights can't be filled And soon it will be His hands they shake Aface in not in pine And soon it will be And it sits in his right hand But he never understands And while nothing's getting done He's just waiting to become
