England seemed like such a beautiful place from afar

until one day I saw how miserable things really are



all fantastic images they only are apparent

propagated just by hope

and desire to share it



beauty was the allure that brought me close to you

loneliness was the bond that made me stick like glue



all fantastic images they only are apparent

promoted by desperate hope

that things are somewhere better



I don't have a thing against fantasy

but to chase it down just doesn't make sense to me

if your only hope is simply peace and love

you end up discarding most of what you're made of

what you're made of...



all fantastic images they only are apparent

promoted by desperate hope

that things are somewhere better