And as I climbed the totem poles and empty catacombs
Always a new column to be filled
And with every night spent staring at my eyelids
There was a story, yes, to be told
And I leeched just like a tiny little parasite
Till there was no blood left to be drained
Now we’ll both be better off doing our own things
Accomplish anything we’d like
I had reeled in the single bite I’d ever got
From below my fishing pole
But looking back I think that is naive
I had no clue what was real
I had forgot the spectrum of the timeless beauty
Until you opened up that door.