There were almost four hundred untill the black day
I discovered how high they would fly to the sky
If you used them for tennis instead of a ball
Zinging glass satellites crueller than fate
Whacked with a racked up into the blue
I'd smashed all the greenhouses on the estate
And a crowd formed a queue at the gate...
Written by: Marillion, Julia Meyer
Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com