Ticker tape flutters to the ground The young man standing in the crowd Waves a paper flag flutter And all his thoughts he is proud Dropping far away By the grace of god we will go on By the grace of god we will go on But time is crucified Songs from our hearts have shrivelled and died The cowboy really needs this too But the audience don't think to get by to get by Two hundred thousand people in a square Where we're really going somewhere We're going somewhere Dropping far away I'm dropping far away