What am I, what am I not?
What am I brewing in this broth?
What is this, such a rougue call?
Why am I so ready to fall?
What am I, what am I not?
What am I brewing in this broth?

What is this wind, I want to follow?
Why do my home feel so hollow?
Why is it so appealing, the waters so unsteady?
To jump, why am I so ready?...