There's something solid forming in the air,
The wall of death is lowered in Times Square.
No-one seems to care,
They carry on as if nothing was there.
The wind is blowing harder now,Blowing dust into my eyes.
The dust settles on my skin,
Making a crust I cannot move in
And I'm hovering like a fly, waiting for the windshield on the freeway.
Songwriters
GABRIEL, PETER / HACKETT, STEVE / COLLINS, PHIL / BANKS, ANTHONY / RUTHERFORD, MICHAELPublished by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, IMAGEM U.S. LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.
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