This is opening night This is the curtain call of life Etching with melody, scenery to the void And I bet we could paint them And I bet we'd take our time Slobbing sick ideas at them Under fake lights What ever happened to the old tree and the conquered creek? Stand steady, cause there's etches in the harmony Never found ...but we'd meet at the beach Wetting a red stone And painting your face And diving in to be rid of this beach colored paint We're all perfect imperfections And we all have our own shoes So where we step is where we choose