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Time Of The Moon

We’re killing space and wasting time
And dying hard and spilling beans.
We’re moving fast on intuition
In the world of stupid things.
We are the flyers, no return
And no regrets and no delay.
Into the frenzy this is crazy
Burning wheels to get away.

Time of the moon.
In the sky,
Cloud is breaking.
Voice of the doom,
For the birds,
In the making.

The time is wasted
On intuition.
We are the flyers,
Into the frenzy.
We’re spilling beans
On stupid things.
With no delay
We get away.

Time of the moon.
In the sky,
Cloud is breaking.
Voice of the doom,
For the birds.
In the making.

No destination is the way
We’re taking of, accelerate.
Get rid of garbage, yes, you may.
They draw the bridge, but it’s too late.
We are the final revelation,
Shooting through the burning sky.
Abandoned cargo hits the ground.
On broken wings we are flying high.