My Chicago lights
are like the northern sky,
on a full moon.
What I'm asking for,
is nothing but a peaceful, endless, ritual. 
An I rather be in the middle of the forest, than the cold, cruel, city at home...
Cause I know I'm warmer in the darkness than the stinging lights.
Sometimes it's a shame,
to be known you must be famous.
An sometimes it's a fault,
If that game never stops.
In our fight to be heard!
Most become psychotic an absurd! 
Do you struggle as everyone else?
Who would listen to the boy that always fell?
Like me...
Autumn always looked so pretty,
An winter too...
But my eyes lied to me, when I saw the new world.
It was made with the purist, cleanest snow. If you know what I don't know.
I bet you remember how the next lines go!
An I rather be in the middle of the forest, than the cold, cruel, city at home...
Cause I know I'm warmer in the darkness than the stinging lights.
Sometimes it's a shame,
to be known you must be famous.
An sometimes it's a fault,
If that game never stops.
In our fight to be heard!
Most become psychotic an absurd! 
Do you struggle as everyone else?
Who would listen to the boy that always fell?
Like me...