Ik heb laarzen van ariat die aan de zijkant met een veter vast gaat. Super fijne laarzen.
Fog on her glasses, From the still steaming tea, A book in her hand, As she casually reads.
A catch in her breath, As the Climax grows near, She's deaf to the world : The book's all she can hear.
She's completely lost now, or perhaps she is found,
In this strange paper world
That's far from the ground.