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
Awake

If you hold on to that box
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 happened before
Someday miraculous spring
Will forgive
Every cowardly thing that you've done
That I've done
Dust it off
That we've done