Freaky egg-nosed glade off bats Rusty old cans, dreams of sweets and, uh, cigarettes Some kind of thankless tax that you made for me Some ideal, ludicrous, idealogy Uh, some religious freak of many creed Some wine to take and have no need Or breed of this or that that you have seen And everyone has got your thanks Machine guns, many tanks Come over the horizon And rising of you Perusing and breathing into you and breathing into me When you pass through heaven's gate every morning And when you wake up and the sun shines That's just fine 'cause you don't even know you're own mind You been bored and stating and hanging around and on the ground You've never lived, never died You never had time on your side There's always been a million things you've never said to you Never mind that, there is always the one thing that you can or cannot do Dream, sleep, sleep, dream You got all a million things in between You got a world to wait, a thing to make And you pass through heaven's gate every morning And when you wake up and the sun shines And when the trees come out and the pigs were flying There's only birds in the sky Nobody, nobody left but you
Dream casual like no need to proclaim Hanging out in the driving grange No need to go 'round and 'round banging on and on and on and on Dream casual like no need to proclaim Hanging out in the driving grange
No reason to wonder why Surely this is all of us got And we're rolling, racing to the break of day No reason to wonder why Surely this is all of us got And we're rolling, racing to the break of day Where the morning sunlight shatters Ooh-ooh, ohTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
