Break It Down Camacho

We all want to feel like we have a purpose

We're all just numbers in the end we're time traveling

Turn the lights off

Turn the lights off, where do we go from here?

Winter comes round' the bend

When you're not plannin' our escape

September is such a trend when the leaves fall red

We bow our heads to the dead, we bow our heads

A funeral for a good friend, to the dead

(un funerale per un buon amico, per i morte)

You still swim around in the sound,

The Long Island Sound

I can still see you swimming around

You'll never let me drown

In the sound, you swim around

When the whistle blows, you know it's time to go