I'm going into this world,
i'm walking on the pain,
i'm going into this old black dream;
all the things and all the thoughts,
everything is pressing in my head
and i'm dreaming a new world
without the war...
I'm going into this world,
i'm walking on the blood,
i'm going into this old black dream;
all the time and all the space,
everything is pressing in my head
and i'm dreaming a new world
without the war...
War and death,
war and death,
and our dreams are paper-sheets,
...and our dreams are dreams.
The big man now is here,
and you are very good,
but your face is a fat dust-pan;
powerful man, oh powerful man,
maybe i am an old child,
because i need my rainbow and my sky!