I would die in agony
So you would never clearly see
That I'm done with all my pains
And flown out in deadly ailing haste

Don't wanna float in morbid air
Don't wanna soar in frozen haze
Do you know I have drilled my skills?
Do you find that I am well prepared?

For the wasted moments way ahead
Do the demons lose their route?
Or they simply trace my trembling beam
And nose my incertitude?

I'm trying to curtail my sinuous path
I'm trying putting on so wrong deluding marks
Staying frail for all the sleuths
Assuming forms of any modern ghost

Where am I appointed to?
Who will meet me at the end?
All these questions left in space
And flown out in deadly ailing haste

Manage my fly,
Manage my fly