Текст: Sam Phillips. Go Down.

You face the blue
And wish the roof would open up
But arches of commerce
Have made the sky corrupt

Go down

Break the code of death
For profit break the guns
Break the silence of money
Break the greedy unison

Go down
Maybe someday you'll come back to me

Find the mystical connection
Find the dreams
Under cynical wreckage
Find the winding conscious stream

Go down
Maybe someday you'll come back to me