Burning papers into ashes
what a season
how they fly high
from the ground up
there is yet another fountain
flowing over
as the night falls
keep dreaming away
If you hold on to that past
don't you lock yourself inside
Nothing has been done before
It's the most virgin
dress you could possibly wear
Mess it up Time is up
Hold your memory for a moment
with a blind hand
Write some stories for tomorrow
From the bottle of amnesia
Find instructions to salvation
to oblivion supreme
Don't be tempted to look back
It has all happen before
Someday miraculous spread will
forgive every cowardly thing
that you've done
That I've done
Dust it off
That you've done
That we've done