It seems that I'm seasoned
Like in a season of the old me
Once you're outside you won't want to hide anymore
To be weathered and withering
And now it's on and now it's on
Where the sea is to be
I wouldn't trade my place

Bust the lock off the front door
To be in a season of the old me
I wouldn't trade my place
And now it's on and now it's on
Where the dead sea is to be
Now that the lake's in place

And now it's on and now it's on
Bust the lock off the front door
Light the light on the front porch

To be weathered and withering
To be in a season of the old me

Once it's on you're never wanna turn it off anymore

Like in a season of the old me
I got no reason
Light the light on the front porch
It seems to be that I'm seasoned
I got no reason
Once it's on you're never wanna turn it off anymore
Once you're outside you won't want to hide anymore

And now it's on
And now it's on and now it's on