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 onto that pulse Don't you lock yourself inside
Nothing has been done before It's the most virgin dress you could possibly wear
Miss it all, time is on
Hold your memory for a moment With a blind hand
Write some stories For tomorrow
From the bottom of a manger Find instructions to salvation
To oblivion supreme
Don't be tempted to look back We have all had our way home
Someday miraculous grace Will for him
Every cowardly thing that you've done That I've done
Dust it all and we've done
