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As much as you say that we won't decay |
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The bombs went off a week ago |
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The grass here is gray, been walking all day |
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But I'm not sure we'll make it home |
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So if you trust me, hold me close and |
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We'll turn to sculptures made of sand |
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Once they find us, a thousand years from now |
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We'll still be right here holding hands |
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Still be glowing, smiling like we didn't give a damn |
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The lights getting low and the dust to snow |
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The broken windows went everywhere |
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Your clothes may be torn but I'll keep you warm |
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I'll shade your eyes from the firestorm |
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So if you trust me, hold me close and |
|
We'll turn to sculptures made of sand |
|
Once they find us, a thousand years from now |
|
We'll still be right here holding hands |
|
Still be glowing, smiling like we didn't give a damn |
|
So if you trust me, hold me close and |
|
We'll turn to sculptures made of sand |
|
Once they find us, a thousand years from now |
|
We'll still be right here holding hands |
|
Still be glowing, smiling like we didn't give a damn |
