We all want to feel like we have a purpose
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We're all just numbers in the end we're time traveling
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Turn the lights off
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Turn the lights off, where do we go from here?
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Winter comes round' the bend
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When you're not plannin' our escape
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September is such a trend when the leaves fall red
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We bow our heads to the dead, we bow our heads
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A funeral for a good friend, to the dead
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(un funerale per un buon amico, per i morte)
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You still swim around in the sound,
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The Long Island Sound
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I can still see you swimming around
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You'll never let me drown
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In the sound, you swim around
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When the whistle blows, you know it's time to go
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-----------------
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Break It Down Camacho
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| Iwrestledabearonce |
