The sun will come in a few hours Somewhere from over there. The dark will disappear And tumble into the sky. Into the sky, a-a-h...
For better uses to come The truth's a feather. Turning itself to a reminder Or hate's own torture, Or hate's own torture. And the dance goes on, And the dance goes on...
And the dance goes on Without you this time. And you even refuse To get in the line. And the dance goes on, The dance goes on...
The game will turn into parody: Something we compare to life. The rules will vanish now, And it will all begin. It will begin, a-a-h...
For other purposes I suppose The new is a model. Burning without a reason now In love's own summer, In love's own summer. And the dance goes on, And the dance goes on...
And the dance goes on
Without you this time.
And you even refuse
To get in the line.
And the dance goes on,
The dance goes on...