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Production
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Lyrically, this song is about why we are here and everything.
david muddiman starground
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Song Info
Genre
Pop Dance-Pop
Charts
Peak #276
Peak in subgenre #108
Author
David Muddiman
Rights
March 1996
Uploaded
November 29, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.9 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
Lyrics
PRODUCTION Land is laid With tracks of Iron Mask over the faith We have things to do Dreams to plan So the doing of things, it must be done Wear the mind like fingers to the bone There's lofty needs still unaccomplished Struggle that we may be attending To life's many duties we've yet to inspire Land's own earth, she bares herself Revealing open wounds but not to cry She concentrates, on what remains Being, life in still, and peace ... Run the belly of the beast that rides this land Scratching through the cold morning sky Inspired by man reckless ability to rape his surroundings, for making them into something to making something more And definitely making too much noise to be going from one place to the other Production cars with letter codes They ride this steel, for they provide What was thought to be the sole purpose These rails ever came to need to be A resource that was needed make dreams REAL Disrailment, it is tollerated to some degree Any young man would be a fool, to think he could simply just survive But the company man he doesn't reach for the brakes No No No, No No No No No - He hits the throttle hard Mightly young engineer Hit the throttle hard And ride on into that setting sun Must leave these peaceful flowered fields, is like seasonal love finding a bitter dieing wind What you seek stands stoned on the horizon - it's a bitter winter ridge running to the sky forever And it's a winter grade ahead So hit that throttle hard Ride on into that setting sun Hit the throttle hard And ride on into that good night Good night Land is laid with tracks of iron Mask over the faith We have things to do dreams to plan So the doing of things, in this wild-flowered field of dreams the Earth she's grown tired she thinks these things of this man they must be stopped right now! Run the belly of the beast that rides this land Scratching through the cold morning sky David Muddiman March 26th 1996
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