Standing over the land of the vain lets you know it's the end of the fate Smiling on the salon in the pain lets you go to the edge of the lane Hanging on the airplane lets you see there is nothing worth to say Shining over the tank of the fame lets you down to the ruins of days Standing over the land of the vain lets you seal up the edge of the fake Dragging over the coals for your ray lets you feel something cold all the day Hanging on the airplane lets you think there is nothing else to say Take your time to see what makes people turn 'round again
