All smoke and sound, I say.
You say the opposite.
Does it matter where
and what we are,
if nothing remains as it is,
and everything's the same?
Who should know
about the harbingers of our past?
Where smoke turns stone,
as the accompanying sound
remains misunderstood.
All smoke and sound, I say.
You say the opposite.
Does it matter where
and what we are,
if nothing remains as it is,
and everything's the same?
Who should know
about the harbingers of our past?
Where smoke turns stone,
as the accompanying sound
remains misunderstood.