Burning papers into ashes
What a season
How they fly high
From the ground oh
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 …?
Finding [bad word] 
To salvation
To oblivia
So … ? (please? prease?)
Don’t be tempted to look back
It has all happen before
Someday mira… ? (miracle you’ll have spread? ..)
Will forgive
Every cowardly thing that you’ve done
That I’ve done
Dust it off
(That we’ve done… that we’ve done…)