and when you touch down...
Eight miles high, and when you touch down
You'll find that it's stranger than knownSigns in the street, that say where you're goingAre somewhere just being their own
Nowhere is there warmth to be foundAmong those afraid of losing their groundRain gray town, known for its soundIn places, small faces unbound
Round the squares, huddled in stormsSome laughing, some just shapeless formsSidewalk scenes, and black limousinesSome living, some standing alone
Source: LyricFind




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