Tell me, sell me,
Oh the future that you see,
For I am naught but a fool,
Laying next to the fire, waiting for the burns to cool,
Singed hair snakes round my skull,
My world's colors have faded to dull,
Is the fire muddling my senses?
Oh I cannot feel anything,
Regret of wasted time courses through me,
How was it that I couldn't see?
I had a future in my palm,
but now it's charred and gone.
God save this blistered fool,
For he is quite lost this time of yule,
Scraping by on easy days,
And completely lost within his ways.
Burn a fool,
It seems quite cruel,
But I'll tell you this today,
Tis love I see in the bright Sun's rays,
And a boy who tries to hard to be,
And dips himself in hypocrisy.
So Tell me, sell me,
On the future that you see,
Because It could be dangerous,
But it's still no worse for me.
I'm lost you see,
and I'm afraid to be lost in my thoughts today.