Drainpipes

In the land with no drainpipes there's a girl

with a flute in her throat

She's only in bloom whispering

by the command of a ghost

She dares not to speak knowing that this would unfold

The lack of a voice, genuinely hers all alone

In the land with no drainpipes again

they are switching their seats

A new order to what has bored them enough,

where's the news?

So she, Sophie, buys herself a skeleton

to simply believe

That there once was a shape underneath

our infinite possibilities

Bring her snowstorms

Bring her back to the chain

Bring the dictator

who is now sleeping in vain