Now that the Cay's in place   Where the sea is to be   It seems to be that I'm seasoned   To be in a season of the old me      I wouldn't trade my place   I got no reason   To be weathered and withering   Like in a season of the old me      Bust the lock off the front door   Once you're outside you won't want to hide anymore   Light the light on the front porch   Once it's on you're never wanna turn it off anymore   And now it's on and now it's on      Now that the lake's in place   Where the dead sea is to be   It seems that I'm seasoned   To be in a season of the old me      I wouldn't trade my place   I got no reason   To be weathered and withering   Like in a season of the old me      Bust the lock off the front door   Once you're outside you won't want to hide anymore   Light the light on the front porch   Once it's on you're never wanna turn it off anymore   And now it's on and now it's on      And now it's on and now it's on   And now it's on and now it's on   And now it's on