On the outside, I am clean

The sun shines bright

But on the inside reside my dreams

Which are, truely, a fright.

I don't know where I am bound

But I do know what I am.

Might as well hop on a Greyhound

But I won't walk along with the flock of lambs

My soul resides in winter

But I'm trapped in California

It's hurting me, caught under my skin like a splinter

But no, I'm still giving off this cold aura

I am me, my mind isn't some machine

Cause on the inside, this is what I dream.