7 Years Bad LuckDelirium

There is no fooling me it's already too late
Your lips are moving but I cannot
Hear a word can't hear your screams
Don't bring me up we're going down

And I can't believe that apparently our pilot has a parachute
He was swearing like a sailor, now he's passing by like a floating angel

So maybe I should be a cloud
I'd let it rain down on their parades
I'd rest while they're asleep
But I'd be back up in the morning
And haunt them for another day

There is no fooling me we all are gonna die
So thanks for telling me that flying is the safest way to travel
It always comforts me

I guess I know how to play a fever
I guess I know how to go back to sleep
And when I'll wake up all the clouds will be gone
All that's left in my head: delirium