An Absurd And Unrealistic Dream Of Peace Thursday

From the fields of the burning wheat
To the corners of the black arcades
We hold our hands like cigarettes
Then we leave them dying in the grass

The road is running out
We see it over our shoulders with everything we've lost:
Fields of flowers, balanced powers
They're in recession with everything we love
Freedom fading like voices ringing
I feel it drifting away

When you raise your head
And you fall down to your knees
While you wait for it
We're running fast as we can
Down a street with no end

Last night I had a dream that we were floating in the sea
With flags all around us but now the colors had washed out
They were left innocent and free
And there were bombers riding shotgun in the sky
They all turned into light and spread like stars
Across the trembling black night
They're calling you now
So make the sign of the Southern Cross
And I will follow you down