We have no choice but to destroy, Every note
And every prototype and every page
With every pen related to, To our words
Though it will surely cost us all
- All our thoughts, Though it would only say we're sorry...

All evidence was sent to torch - By our pain
And that seemed like a bit of sky that night
Most of us saw the springtime stars, By the lot
And afterwards we had to tell - Tell ourselves
That certain plans have secret endings...

We fleeted back to listening. See reason;
We have created this expensive mess
The laughing voice was deafening - Who could know?
Well there's our letter send it now
What wonders?
What will we have then to remember?