Diary of P. Stuart

A sound is suppressed
 Somewhere, somehow
 For some reason
 Not reasonable at all
 The walls, they have ears
 As many have found
 As soon as they got lost
 We sing as we walk
 Some birds congregate
 Around crumbs of bread
 A condor approaches
 The dove flies elsewhere
 But not far from there
 The eagles they spread
 Their wings and their freedom
 South of their land
 Ooh... oh-oh-oh... who-oh-oohhh
 The nightmare comes more often
 It ends in a basement again
 On a on
 I hold the key on my throat
 But I ain't gonna give in
 That I know for sure
 On and on
 As I figured
 On and on and on
 I'll cross these fields
 Barefoot, on my own
 And pass through defenses
 Made of ghosts
 Between the tombstones, then
 We shall score
 Score
 And then at night
 Amongst the crowd
 We'll sing the forbidden anthems loud
 And by the dawn we will be too far
 Faaaar!!!
 I'll cross these fields
 Barefoot, on my own
 And pass through defenses
 Made of ghosts
 Between the tombstones, then
 We shall score
 Score
 And then at night
 Amongst the crowd
 We'll sing the forbidden anthems loud
 And by the dawn we won't need to run
 Run