Miss Acacia:
My vision’s not quite right
But glasses make me look a sight
Enough to give the world a fright
Like a sprite wearing specs
Jack:
Oh fiery little sprite
Conflagration in the night
Don’t play games with your sight
If it leaves you in the dark
Miss Acacia:
I prefer, laugh of the blur
I forget to wear my glasses
When I sing I share caresses
It feels good to close my eyes