Genesis - Fly On A Windshield
There's Something Solid Forming In The Air,
The Wall Of Death Is Lowered In Times Square.
No-one Seems To Care,
They Carry On As If Nothing Was There.
The Wind Is Blowing Harder Now,
Blowing Dust Into My Eyes.
The Dust Settles On My Skin,
Making A Crust I Cannot Move In
And I'm Hovering Like A Fly, Waiting For The Windshield On The Freeway
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