Из альбома: Futurama
Tin aeroplanes trace the time
Past our fading window's eyes
And the panes are pains inside
Through which we see
All the glories fast unfold
All the joys lo and behold
It's a bitter-sweet dark secret
That we keep
Bold children of the air
Swoop and fighting feathers fly
Leave the hue and cry
Behind and far below
In the room behind the door
Like a ghost who walks the floor
I go searching for a trace
Of wing or beak
And feel so weak for a while
From your passionate smile
Hear the wind beneath the trees
It's the soundtrack of my dreams
And the song it sings
Is of the earth and sky
All the sleepers who awake
Know too well the poisoned taste
It's a sweet disease
That carries me away
Cold fountains in the dark
Pass beneath your shining arc
Oh part of me is crystal too
And dances free
In the marble mausoleum
In the shadows I can see them
Lovers
Blue bed spread they give me head
Oh how I bled
When they said that the rose had no thorns
Tin aeroplanes trace the time
Past our fading windows eyes
And the panes are pains inside
Through which we see