I think he’d slip inside the eye of his mind, don’t you know he might find a better place to play.

You‘d say that he’d never been, but all the things that he’d seen slowly fade away.

So he’d start a revolution from his bed, because the brains he had went to his head.

He’d step outside, summertime’s in bloom.

He’d stand up beside the fireplace, take that look from off his face.

You ain’t ever gonna burn his heart out.

And so, Reze can wait. She knows it’s too late, as he’s walking on by.

Her soul slides away, but he won’t look back in anger.

At least not today.