You're going to grow yourself a garden
Tall walls made of vines
You're going to drown out the light from all the other towns
Aint' got time for their hollow lies

You're going to sell your own name
You're going to serve yourself up like a phesant on feast day
By the end of the year there won't be anything left, not even for the buzzards to take

We all go down one way or another
Best to get yourself a hobby and latch on to a lover
Take a trip to dingy din-dins and pick yourself up something sweet

We all go down one way or another
Grab a hold of something gold and trade it for another
Take a dip into the Urubamba and soak your blistering feet

Now what I need you to do is get your boots and make a dash for the gates
Don't waste any time, you're only pushing your luck
Then I need you to reach into your rift and realize there ain't anything keeping you from finding relief

Stop your feet on the ground
Make some noise
Don't let them intimidate you until you lose your voice
Don't let them back you down

We all go down one way or another
Best to get yourself a hobby and latch on to a lover
Take a trip to dingy din-dins and pick yourself up something sweet

We all go down one way or another
Grab a hold of something gold and trade it for another
Take a dip into the Urubamba and soak your blistering feet

YEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH (the rest of the script is just random scribbles)

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Daedalan, in the year 955 AF.