He hates the desk, that is grotesque With all its documents and lists and the screen Outside the sun, he wants to run away to face the day Without destroying his way Hurry up! Don't dare to stop! Something inside him screams It's creeping in, it's sweating out The fear of flying, the fear of dying, a roundabout It's time to decide, to choose the question mark or to hide From the fire still burning inside On the radio, 'though the level's low, he hears The Stones See how I'm flying it's the call for life Just pretend your wings are stronger than all the things That put you down and start your crying She's through the door of the seventh floor Her naked body lies dead on the ground Tears in his eyes asking for the wherefores and the why's And searching for the pure or at least the nice Not only on the radio, don't keep the level low, we receive the call See how I'm flying it's the call for life Just pretend your wings are stronger than all the things That put you down and start your crying See how I'm sailing in the eye of the storm Leave your fears behind or soon you'll be blind For the miracle called Life
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