He drifts on Towards the harsh winter wind And a constant hail of snowfall Pale cold skin The kind that aches all within Covers all that life This kid can By the leagues of fools That preach their condescending heap Of judging tones And a guild they call their own His dreams of paradise exceed Still, his hands shake Until he takes a drink A disease that has plagued his blood for years But on this day He fights history With a jones for a tropical release So on this roadside quest In the midst of a squall His mind is warm sunny themes Cause there he walks along A cerebral beach And the waves crash softly in the breeze