Laying in the gras
where hoppers used to sing,
I listen to the brass
listen to its swing
beneath the southern cross
damn far away from here.
I mourne about the loss
of dreams and feel a tear
come running down my cheek.
I taste the salty touch
and soothing all the weak
deep down concerns me much
stronger than allowed, I swallow
once again, keep calm and don't
regret that life I couldn't follow
instead it helps to bond.
where hoppers used to sing,
I listen to the brass
listen to its swing
beneath the southern cross
damn far away from here.
I mourne about the loss
of dreams and feel a tear
come running down my cheek.
I taste the salty touch
and soothing all the weak
deep down concerns me much
stronger than allowed, I swallow
once again, keep calm and don't
regret that life I couldn't follow
instead it helps to bond.