Burning papers into ashes, what a season, how they fly high...
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The D - Dust It Off
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 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 bottle of amnesia
Find instructions, to salvation, to oblivion, supreme
Don’t be tempted to look back
It has all happen before
Someday miraculous spread will forgive every cowardly thing that you’ve done
That I’ve done
Dust it off
(That you've done
That we've done)
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