| Garden gates we’re talking over
|
| Blades of grass are upright daggers
|
| Pilot speaks, announces solemnly:
|
| «We've just lost another wing»
|
| Then speed, altitude, local time, weather conditions
|
| Oh, I think my night is on a collision course with dawn
|
| Oh, somebody push a button that will stop the world
|
| I’m getting off
|
| All I wanna do is pretend we’re islands in the tub
|
| Baby, you can even hold me under
|
| Maybe we could roll the windows down and turn it up
|
| Play all the songs that you’ve ever loved
|
| See, everyone’s exactly where yesterday we left them, dear
|
| All expressionlessly dining in artificial lighting still
|
| All turn to me
|
| They must think I’m their new friend
|
| But I’m already elsewhere in my head
|
| Please, somebody pull a lever that will stop the world
|
| I’m getting off
|
| All I wanna do is pretend we’re islands in the tub
|
| Baby, you can even hold me under
|
| Maybe you could roll the windows down and turn it up
|
| Play all the songs that you’ve ever loved
|
| We can talk about everything you want when I’m short of words
|
| Fly a kite in the evening
|
| You better believe it
|
| This time we’re gonna live
|
| What’s the use of looking up?
|
| Heaven’s just a tomb for rockets
|
| All the garden gates we’re talking over
|
| Blades of grass are upright daggers
|
| What’s the use of looking up?
|
| Heaven’s just a tomb for rockets
|
| All the garden gates we’re talking over
|
| Blades of grass are upright daggers |