"The ceiling had something mysterious to me
It seemed to fall down like fruit from a tree
There were things coming out, a horse, a knight,
Men, women, children, all lost in a fight..."
"I won't say too much to you
The dream we've had is not coming true
Our luck is running out of time
And every word is a bullet now..."
"Feel it, I want to get out.
Cant you see it, that I won't survive.
With the Sundays in my pocket and a little bit of honey I'll get by.
With the Sundays in my pocket and a little bit of honey I'll get by...."