Alba s touto skladbou:
The Futurist,
All of this ends
The mountain outlast the summer
Father gave us a number
Our very own
All of my friends
All of my so-called brothers
We are dying
We are tired
And if you think that
Simple solution is retribution, please, breathe
Freeze-dried amends
Scalding insinuations
Why am I standing?
Is this my home?
All of my trees
That bend to be heard are missing
Where are the brides?
Why aren't they kissing?
And if you think, I'm apocalyptical
Cold and cryptic, please never leave, yeah
Hang on, hang on, hang on, hang on little clownz
You might just turn the world around
There are just words
This is my contribution
Unfit for evolution
Silly and pure
There is a sound
Under the darkest winter
I am sure
I rest assure
And if you think, you hear yourself screaming
Feel me dreaming, more, feel more, more
Hang on, hang on, hang on, hang on, little clownz
You might just turn the world around
Hang on, little clownz
You might just turn the world around
You might just turn the world around
