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PNDC & Housework
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Pilots
Souls migrate
In the summer turning cold
Cross and currents
In the winter turning gold
Reinvent and change
In the morning's stunning glow
Charge it up with hate
To treat it all like love
Paint it real someday
Paint it real just for me
Be real again someday
And dress up in your angel wings
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No more postcards no
No more allies from the mask
No, no more wasted space
Paint it real someday…
Every moment counting costs
And on the wing of pilots
Of destinations lost
Upon the wing of pilots
Port of entry lost…
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