[Verse]
All the real things
Seem like a million lies
Currents and oceans rise
Preaching for me but I’m blind

All the sweet things
Sound like an ancient mind
Reciting a poem as advice
Leaving me to cold black nights

[Bridge]
Never was prepared
For moments of despair
While waiting for a day in june

[Chorus]
Rage will hit us far too soon
Before the summertime’s in bloom
Rage will hit us far too soon
Before the summertime’s in bloom