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  • There's something solid forming in the air
    And the wall of death is lowere 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
    And I'm hovering like a fly, waiting for the winshield on the freeway
  • There's something solid forming in the air
    And the wall of death is lowere 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
    And I'm hovering like a fly, waiting for the winshield on the freeway