Hits, hits,
all I hear from you lately is hits.
But is your work the best?
As good as you can do?
Of course, not yet.
Or are you just making a fortune?
What's wrong with a fortune
if it helps me get on?
Even if it has to bring me sorrow,
happiness is ours to borrow.
As the winding gear
takes us near,
slowing down with it, well,
we could go as
To the skies, seagulls perch on her tail
One eye sleeping, one eye
Leads to the front of the room
I didn't plan on coming back,
but somebody's waiting for someone
Stuck in my head through the crowd,
something is waiting for someone
Tickets purchased in the front,
a tired day
Mind stretching past
the comprehension
Of the officer's attention
Then a selfless act, a wordless fact,
led to plot our escape
A new address, an ancient press,
a hideout down by the cave
Silence, screeching silence
Treason, our last days alone
No one is ever gone for good
Somebody's waiting for someone
Noises from under the floor
Something is waiting for someone