Nothing Changes on New Year’s Day —
Under a blood red sky A crowd has gathered in black and white Arms entwined, the chosen few The newspaper says, says Say it’s true, it’s true And we can break through Though torn in two We can be one
The trap door crashes shut, and you hear someone barring it.
Under a blood red sky A crowd has gathered in black and white Arms entwined, the chosen few The newspaper says, says Say it’s true, it’s true And we can break through Though torn in two We can be one