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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 happened 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