Waste Management

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 its 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 this white robe

Through the darkness

Paragliding

Back to heaven

Flying bullets

Hit the targets

Wings and haloes

Five to seven

In this white robe

Through the darkness

Paragliding

Back to heaven

Time is running, we are sitting

Back together just for splitting

You are crying in the corner

Always next and never former

Open up and let me hear it

Former body future spirit

Brain is useless, chair is rocking

Open doors for dead men walking

Flying bullets

Hit the targets

Wings and haloes

Five to seven

In this white robe

Through the darkness

Paragliding

Back to heaven

Flying bullets

Hit the targets

Wings and haloes

Five to seven

In this white robe

Through the darkness

Paragliding

Back to heaven