Bạn nhìn thấy sự việc và hỏi “Tại sao?”, nhưng tôi mơ tưởng đến sự việc và hỏi “Tại sao không?”.

George Bernard Shaw

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Original Fire
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[Chorus: x4]
The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on
 
With a pen in one hand, taking us and burned on kerosene
Headed for a fire would find us something to believe
Wallowing round with dirty hands on wires
Singing songs in discord choirs
Screaming in braille, no temptress prize
Could ever yield anything so real
 
[Chorus: x2]
 
Golden soldiers born much older than they'll ever live to be
Diving into a sea of hands in a long forgotten city
When the rain falls ever after
The swinging vines hang dead in rafters
Blood rush to heal your head induces of laughter endlessly
 
The original fire has died and gone, but the riot inside moves on
The original fire has died and long gone, but the riot inside moves on
 
Can't explain it, it was something to see
Can't contain something ethereal
Ethereal
 
Can't explain it, it was something to see
Can't contain something so ethereal
Ethereal
 
[Chorus: x4]