The quiet sounds louder
In the forest you escaped
While the fruit appears brighter
Your skin covered in scrapes
Maybe it won’t take pleasure
With reading your mind
Oh, how you fixate on treasure
Your fate…already designed
Nothing’s as it seems
In a place deemed wonderland
Confusing nightmares with dreams
Or your foot with your hand
You’ll soon be a mystery
When you’re in its hold
And You’ll never make history
With your lips sealed in gold
