Feeling Ugly, Looking pretty
Yellow Ribbons, Black Graffiti
Word is written, Bond is broken
No big secret left unspoken
Sun is painted in the corner
But it's never getting warmer
All the lies they keep on selling
But you never check the spelling
Flying Bullets
Hit the targets
Wings and haloes
Five to seven
In these white robes
Through the darkness
Paragliding
Back to heaven