Paroles de Fly On a Windshield

There's Something Solid Forming in the Air, The Wall of Death Is Lowered in Times Square. No-one Seems to Care, They Carry On As If Nothing Was There. The Wind Is Blowing Harder Now, Blowing Dust Into My Eyes. The Dust Settles On My Skin, Making a Crust I Cannot Move In And I'm Hovering Like a Fly, Waiting For the Windshield On the Freeway.