Оригинален текст
I am here, and you are here,
but we are not really here at all.
Chew them up,
build the fort,
The sky is a palette painting our demise.
All the colours are overwhelming (indecipherable)
Warnings, just keep those blanket and pillows coming, and turn those fucking lights off.
As long as we make it alive our ears will reject their babble, and we'll fall around like imbeciles.