Drainpipes
In the land with no drainpipes there's a girlwith a flute in her throatShe's only in bloom whisperingby the command of a ghostShe dares not to speak knowing that this would unfoldThe lack of a voice, genuinely hers all alone
In the land with no drainpipes againthey are switching their seatsA new order to what has bored them enough,where's the news?
So she, Sophie, buys herself a skeletonto simply believeThat there once was a shape underneathour infinite possibilities
Bring her snowstormsBring her back to the chainBring the dictatorwho is now sleeping in vain