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only one place I know where I'd want to be now
but this place is impossible to go
so I stay here chopping wood into pieces
thinking about the hypotheses

what if I was a piece of wood
it would be good but I am not
so I stay here chopping wood into pieces
thinking about the hypotheses

breaking wood to continue my dreadful life
feel the shivers shooting in my eyes
I stay here chopping wood into pieces
thinking about the hypotheses

just to burn the stuff away
to enlighten the night and heat up the day
I stay here chopping wood into pieces
thinking about the hypotheses

only one place I know where I'd want to be now
I imagine it being the destination of the smoke
I stay here chopping off my arm
throwing it into the fire and make it warm

my arm shall burn and turn into smoke
going to where I want to go
this part of me is finally released
in my imagination, at least