When grass was emerald green
a lonely star went wandering
across a distant city
the best things were ripe for dreaming
this road is the path that leads to the chaos night
When the streets are alone at night
you hear the sound of your feet
the thumps shatter the streetlights
as snow rains down
the best things were ripe for dreaming
this road is the path that leads to the chaos night
Copyright © 2003 by Steve Bomkamp
