Tekster: The Gone Jackals. Trapped.

Trapped inside my body.
Trapped inside my time.
I try to talk, but words collide.
I want to fly, but I can hardly walk.

Backed into a corner.
Smacked to holy tatters.


I grab for God, but he's out of reach,
I ride the tide back to the beach.

I pluck a horn from Satan's head,
I sit in with The Grateful Dead.