Despised time, baby
Burn baby burn
Destabilized time
Burn baby burn
Of resetted brains
Burn baby burn
The world burns
Burns because of love
Burns because of hate
Burn baby burn
Little women grow up
Burn baby burn
Old heroes disappear
Burn baby burn
The world burns
Burns because of love
Burns because of hate
Burn baby burn
Primitive boomerangs come back uncontrollably
They unload obsessions on shining cities
Of past raids, of future shows
The lonely journeys, the arrogant paths
Have ended badly, without edicts
Without Jubilees in little stories
Of thinking heads in broken lives
Mended messily and no one comes back home
We stay like this
Maybe a bit perplexed, on late trains
Going down on escalators, waiting for a ride
That I don't know if it'll arrive
That I don't know if it'll arrive but I don't think it will
That I don't know if it'll arrive
That I don't know if it'll arrive but I don't think it will
I don't think it'll arrive, I don't think it'll arrive...
I don't know if it'll arrive (I don't think it will)