In the atmosphere, the smoke will stick onto my eyes,
In the air sometimes, we'll fly away and not look back,
Along the shoreline, buried in sand and struck with fear,
We're stuck down here, but the air will be our true escape.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 10:58 AM UTC
In the atmosphere, the smoke will stick onto my eyes,
In the air sometimes, we'll fly away and not look back,
Along the shoreline, buried in sand and struck with fear,
We're stuck down here, but the air will be our true escape.