Ticker tape flutters to the ground
The young man standing in the crowd
Waves a paper flag flutter
And all his thoughts he is proud
Dropping far away
By the grace of god we will go on
By the grace of god we will go on
But time is crucified
Songs from our hearts have shrivelled and died
The cowboy really needs this too
But the audience don't think to get by to get by
Two hundred thousand people in a square
Where we're really going somewhere
We're going somewhere
Dropping far away
I'm dropping far away
Writer(s): Barry David Jepson, Ian Robert Astbury, David John Burrows, Haq Nawaz
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