I was tripping down the hallways, I mean she must be moving   I walk through easter Sunday, exploding and always losing   Things get loose then turned around like a rainbow golden magnet   Take the bus but don't get in, I feel the freight train is nearly here      And her house is made of glass woo whoooo ooo   And her house is made of glass woo whoooo ooo      She must feel lost inside like a moving misused golden puzzle   And the puzzles missing pieces, all she wants is her canteen   Cartwheel down the sidewalk, don't forget to use the speakers I gave you   I must have missed a turn somewhere, I'm almost there through the broken window      And her house is made of glass woo whoooo ooo   And her house is made of glass woo whoooo ooo