run for the hills, pick up your feet and let's go.
we did our jobs, pick up speed now let's move.
the trees can't grow without the sun in their eyes.
and we can't live if we're too afraid to die.
hold on tight, yes hold on tight you're too slow.
fire at the breeze that blows these thoughts through our mind.
hire only thieves to steal the thoughts from our heads.
we did our jobs, pick up speed now let's move.
the trees can't grow without the sun in their eyes.
and we can't live if we're too afraid to die.
hold on tight, yes hold on tight you're too slow.
fire at the breeze that blows these thoughts through our mind.
hire only thieves to steal the thoughts from our heads.
minceir:
nice poem