All we monsters think we are divinely born.
Our fingers pointed to heaven, we direct our scorn.
We're not flying,
We're not flying
We're not flying yet
Just naming all the stars
Turning, looking backward as we go
We've been leaving just tracks across the snow.
We're all dying,
We're all dying.
We're all dying, yah
Yah we're dying for the things we left undone
The perfect words
We know we've never spoken
Never spoken
I built up towers to live on through the stone
I was leaving just tracks across the snow.
I've been dying,
I'm dying.
I'm dying, yah
Oh I'm dying for the things I left undone
For everything, a time will come
And all that I thought went on and on
Fade until even the echo's gone
And down comes that snow.
Obscuring all of my hope.
Covering everything I know.
Covering all of my hope.
Just to be loved
Just to be loved
Just to be loved
Just to be loved
Just to be loved not covered over by snow, yah
Creeping down it softly comes
Leaves no trace of what once was at all
Covers all that I've done
Filling in all of the holes
Oh, and the glass is breaking
And all the beliefs are shaking
Even the future that you're making
In time will leave you forsaken
Oh now this vertigo you feel is brought on
By this dizzy, spinning sun.
It's not long â till our time is done
And we embrace the dreamless oblivion
We monsters think we are divinely borne
Our fingers pointing to heaven we direct our scorn
We're not flying
We're not flying
We're not flying
Just naming all the stars.
The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
Yen Lo: Normally conditioned American
Cannot possibly feel guilt.
He cannot possibly give himself away.
An outwardly normal, productive, sober,
And respected member of the community entirely police-proof.
His brain has not only been washed, as they say...
It has been dry-cleaned.