What happens to all the dreams and the hopes to turn for dead?
All the heroes messing up and start relying on shifting
Can the pilots of dead hear the dialogue stuttering?
And the god cheers broke to bits
Take an area, get up,
spin the arrow so tender It's the place where dawn is breaking
And the morning dew drops are placed,
weathering and very slender
Think of a night to take them and then the dream begins again
Flowing reeds and the breeze,
a tanker step or circumference
Fear the freedom in the night,
living in extravagance
And it's all inside my brain From the big city of Leeds
The tangerine is still healy
Driving me gently to Florence
I will save our humanity From a virus at a glance
Teachers have left,
kids are gone and no more left to share today
Gotta get out from this hell and they keep on nose to the grindstone
Never again on the freeway,
in the morning crying out
Death and riders screaming bell
And it all seems so easy With a bedding and eyelash
Lying and feeling no doubt Now the dream will knock on my door
Glorious upon my throne