Stranded on a beautiful stark world,
Red sky roaring through protests.
As the devouring flames reach the clouds,
You and me... And our beautiful plastic world.

In every corners chaos will keep their dance,
Exhausted, people fall back in the tension,
And still search for revolution;
The canvas awaits your brush, in wait for a colorful dance.

The skyscrapers devastate and gestalt illusions crack away,
Alone yet with courage of hundreds of us in you;
The act of reversing the so called truth stays within view,
Until nostalgia shoots your present away.

Secrets unravel all the time, don't they poke the truth?
Up to you to stroke the canvas with hope,
Till the dawn where no one has to cope,
With this so called mirage of truth.

Hail your name in your voice, none will reject this world
Anymore as their breath was taken,
And hopes had fallen,
Only you....and our beautiful plastic world.