Cloud Becomes Your Hand - Felt Beetle Lyrics
In forest with large felt bettle, 2 or 3 stories tall, they're walkin slowly, driving bus in snowy country, the road turns into house, theres handsaws on the stairs old and rusty, standing on a frozen lake crackin, beetles walkin near a snowy lake, geysers are gurgglin, snowmobiles are circlin, they line in formation and ride on one of them, flying down the hill the wooden stairs the beetle's lair