Past life, I was a child.
Running out in the wild.
Father’s wandering eye.
No sir, never satisfied.
Past life, I wasn’t whole.
Hopeless, traveling ghost.
Songbird singing for gold.
Old soul, can you hear my call?
Hiya, hiya, hiya, hi-i-i-ya.
Hiya, hiya, hiya, ooo.
I hate that I’m a pessimist,
feeling fragile cause I am delicate.
What is it? Will I ever radiate from all the hate?
I used to be a fish in the past life.
Wasn’t nice till the water iced
then I died.
Born again into a bird,
hate the wings, hate to singing,
hated the height, hate to fight,
I hate everything.
Still, in this life not satisfied
but the negative thoughts somehow feels like a lullably.
Sunshine feels dark like the moon.
Outdoor feels trapped like the zoo.
My thoughts, not right like I’ve had a lot of booze.
I’m half whale, quarter elephant,
quarter capybara but still feels like a poodle.
Everyone’s telling me to be free, be free.
Everyone’s telling me to be free, be free.
Hiya, hiya, hiya, hi-i-i-ya.
(Everyone’s telling me to be free, be free.)
Hiya, hiya, hiya, ooo.
(Everyone’s telling me to be free, be free.)
Everyone’s telling me to be free, be free.