Dousing myself in the dream
This scheme of green and red
Amid my fingers, blowing leaves
Whistling sailors sing songs of the sea
Sirens moaning of trouble in the sky
Birds flee in mass exodus
Then I find myself feeling faint
Feelings of complete loneliness
Wading through millions of faces
Surrounded by so many, but so far removed
Feeling like an alien
Evaporate into the sky
Into the dark, mineral air
My dear, where will we be
In four years, in four years
My dear, where will we be
In four years, in four years
I've got something to propose to you
My fellow countrymen
We've been in this experiment for far too long
Let the madness end
Have you ever been surrounded by so many
Souls walking in their own reality
My dear, we were so close
And how much is one life worth in his war plans?
How he stands tall but we understand his war plans, war plans
My dear, where will we be
In four years, in four years
My dear, where will we be
In four years, in four years
Copyright 2004 Beau Phillips