We once lived in harmony,
Worked hard everyday.
Tried to make a living,
Out of our little pay.
Rest was a huge reward,
Some wished for more.
They called on the rains and they washed them away.
Utopia. They call. Rest and relaxation.
Down to earth, time to kick back.
Utopia. They call. Years pass, and
Ones who stayed are strong,
Full of force, full of song.
Thinking of the tidal wave,
That washed their past away.
Others who left, what can they call themselves?
They followed the waves, and did
Utopia. They called. Just to get away.
Utopia. They called. Made them fall down anyway.
How perfect is perfect?
When it don't exist.
How wonderful is peace?
When we don't know what it is.
To escape your problems. Could it be the end of them?
Guess it ain't as perfect then.
It's a broken Utopia.
Where we can all hide.
But when it comes time to live,
We can't leave, It pulls us in.
Little by Little.
Till there's nothing left, to return to.
Utopia. They cry.
Almost perfect, but,