All that you have is your soul, say hallelujah, be and be not afraid. If
these are the things, mountains of things, the love that you had, the
promise, with open arms, can save us all. Heaven's here on earth.
Freedom now, if not now, a hundred years can save us all.
An occasional dream, here today gone tomorrow, of modern love in these golden years, changes under pressure. A moonage dream changes young Americans. Let's dance as the world falls down, a magic dance, in suffragette city.
I saw her standing there, that day tripper - and do you want to know a secret? The long and winding road across the universe leads to strawberry fields forever. Because all you need is love, a taste of honey - ain't she sweet?
American girl, running down a dream into the great wide open - she'll break down walls. Love is a long road but she's free fallin', learning to fly cause' she's a free girl now. Letting you go was the hardest part but she's gonna listen to her heart - it's gonna tell her what to do.
One way or another, Sunday girl, this heart of glass, in the flesh will, go on dreaming - because dreaming is free. No atomic d-day will rip her to shreds. The tide is high pretty baby, but the hardest part is your presence dear. Fade away and radiate, or just go away. Nothing is real but the girl in rapture on the island of lost souls, she dreams with angels on a balcony - the bride of infinity.
An occasional dream, here today gone tomorrow, of modern love in these golden years, changes under pressure. A moonage dream changes young Americans. Let's dance as the world falls down, a magic dance, in suffragette city.
I saw her standing there, that day tripper - and do you want to know a secret? The long and winding road across the universe leads to strawberry fields forever. Because all you need is love, a taste of honey - ain't she sweet?
American girl, running down a dream into the great wide open - she'll break down walls. Love is a long road but she's free fallin', learning to fly cause' she's a free girl now. Letting you go was the hardest part but she's gonna listen to her heart - it's gonna tell her what to do.
One way or another, Sunday girl, this heart of glass, in the flesh will, go on dreaming - because dreaming is free. No atomic d-day will rip her to shreds. The tide is high pretty baby, but the hardest part is your presence dear. Fade away and radiate, or just go away. Nothing is real but the girl in rapture on the island of lost souls, she dreams with angels on a balcony - the bride of infinity.
This is a wonderful poem i really enjoy it
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