The Dø — Dust It Off

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Burning papers into ashes,
what a season, how they fly high from the ground ohhh
there is yet another fountain flowing over, as the night falls,
keep dreaming away

if you hold on to that past, don’t you lock yourself inside,
Nothing has been done before
It’s the most virgin dress you could possibly wear
Mess it up, Time is up

Hold your memory for a moment with a blind hand.
Write some stories for tomorrow.
From the bottle of amnesia
Find instructions to salvation, to oblivion supreme

Don’t be tempted to look back
It has all happen before

Someday miracular spread will forgive every cowardly thing that you’ve done.

That I’ve done.

Dust it off.