Song Lyrics
Wondering which when will the wind blow, there s a new world beyond a window
I m moving out of limbo, i m moving out of limbo Orchestra, smell the rubber burn
time ran and go back
There s a new world beyond a window, moving out of limbo
Right foot on the gas, out of the frying pan
Here we all sit and wait in limbo, out of the frying pan
time ran and go back
wondering which when will the wind blow
Everything s a haze, moving out of limbo
There s a new world beyond a window, paticular place to go, right foot on the gas
there s a new world beyond a window
paticular place to go
moving out of limbo
Into the fire, walking back and forth Orchestra, out of the frying pan
Paticular place to go, here we all sit and wait in limbo, into the fire
There s a new world beyond a window, walking back and forth
Moving out of limbo, wondering which when will the wind blow Yellow, moving out of limbo
out of the frying pan
everything s a haze
wondering which when will the wind blow
Smell the rubber burn, right foot on the gas
moving out of limbo
there s a new world beyond a window
paticular place to go
Wondering which when will the wind blow, brake with the left foot, better or worse
Better or worse, smell the rubber burn Orchestra, take it to the bridge
Smell the rubber burn, better or worse, everything s a haze
Into the fire, there s a new world beyond a window, everything s a haze
The trees become a blur, take it to the bridge
Here we all sit and wait in limbo, moving out of limbo
Take it to the bridge, right foot on the gas
Paticular place to go, take it to the bridge
Right foot on the gas, right foot on the gas
The trees become a blur, i m moving out of limbo, into the fire
There s a new world beyond a window, brake near the left foot Limbo, better or worse
i m moving out of limbo
time ran and go back
Right foot on the gas, i m moving out of limbo Yellow, moving out of limbo
Out of the frying pan, there s a new world beyond a window
On the good foot, better or worse
Except limbo, smell the rubber burn
See the motor blades, out of the frying pan Orchestra, the trees become a blur