From The Airport – Colors

You seem alone,
In forgotten lights,
Dressed in a suit,
In a pool of white,
Drifting a-way, way

Staring at the sun,
So far away,
Drying your garb,
In a pool of white,
Drifting no-where, where?

Flames born for blinding lights,
Climbing up to glowing heights,
Whoa, whoa, whoa-h.

Look, trace that silver line,
Relax now, you can see the shrine,
Whoa, whoa, whoa-h

No one to talk,
No one to see,
Shouting in silence,
In a tongue-tied rift,
Drifting a-way, way

An endless road,
A senseless mind,
Is that really you?
A piece of metal?
You have the cards

Echoing sounds,
Falling all around,
A million pieces,
Your singing rain,
Your dancing rain

Remember that,
You film engraved,
Fax me in color,
And it's the reset
For the some-where.

Flames born for blinding light,
Climbing up to glowing heights,
Whoa, whoa, whoa-h.

Look, trace that silver line,
Relax now, you can see the shrine,
Whoa, whoa, whoa-h