They all look the same, the only thing different is the paint. Yeah, well they're all... Boeings, they're all made by the same manufacturer I think. It's all they want now. Well, we want safe planes.

This feeling I don't understand, there is something paranormal in this land. As I stood with you hand-in-hand, we felt we were rather grand. There's nothing I can do, to make these circumstances safe for you, so let's jump in, and never slow down. We'll soon be world-renowned. This anguish I can't comprehend, my situation's forcing me to make amends. It's possible that here's where I descend, forever trapped in a long weekend. No toil, no acts from me, will ever restore or make new harmony, 'cause I jumped in, and didn't slow down. Still waiting world renown.

CHORUS: Stay away from the sweeteners, words from a speaker. The conflicting morales of this undying crowd pushed to the border. Being a sweetener, believe me it hurts. No doubt I'm caught up in this sweet-tasting schmuck like falling timber. You live, I die, you stay, I go, sad to always change my flow. While I'm down here speak your mind, 'cause all I can do reach my goal. It's just my nature to love those boys; fashion, tech and making noise. Filling out my new resume, for all my worth I have in toys. I read up on bad dreams, 'cause I wanna keep myself clean. Those down low they understand, polish me 'til there's lustrous sheen. This is a forced reality; giving to a fruitless charity. Hey, can I have a drink please? Coke and make it snappy. This song I do dedicate to you, it pains me to ride on your shoulders two. Statements I must make to prove that I care, I really do. Greed increasing, festering, waiting for that next of kin. The pop culture of the pop stars, it all eagerly fills my tin. Fitness seems fictitious, now I'm knee deep in my interests. Just like underworld criminals, I don't want to have a witness. My hands slip on the ladder in my pursuit of glamour, I should be thankful I keep you in touch. CHORUS Let me tell you the story of which my friends keep talking. It all began one summer's day, left home early in the morning. Met a couple new friends and stormed around a few bends. My knowledge increased rapidly or so I did intend. But as the time dragged on, my conscience lost an electron. A gripping realisation hit me like the marches of Babylon. It struck me I was 'plegic, distortion in my music. Suddenly in the crowd of people, there stood another human. Hair as black as jet fuel, looked like he'd come from art school. Body shows a friendly pose, expression quite unusual. But still he came right up to me, and said to me "Now don't you see, the world is full of talent but for fools there are no nominees." I pondered over this dearly, and then saw the light clearly. To Las Vegas and back, I renew my image yearly. I thank that man to this day, and still contact him in a way. (Can you buy my music again, I actually need your money.) CHORUS

Woke up in a confusing situation. Friendly voice calls out to you and reminds you of your name. Hands down by your sides. You don't know pride, you don't know fear, you don't know anything. You were perfect. Instructions were very few but very helpful. Static images protruding behind the concrete. Don't worry 'bout them. No show of pride, no show of fear. Demoralising made you perfect.

We say "What?" as we venture into the unknown. We just stare at the place that we once called home. They broke our hearts and left us stranded, walk alone, no clue what happened. Do you remember the place that we once called home?