After one full day of rest,
The fatal heat is at it's best,
For every day the degrees go up,
'Till no one can go outside.
We are always naked here,
Except for our salty and dried up tears,
Now I decide I must run so far,
Before I am blown away.......
My legs have been pumping for hours and hours,
But I am not weak, for I've stored up my power,
To run the land,
As the teperature rises.
I'm dripping all over, making puddles at my feet,
Covering the ground in a warm, sweaty sheet.
We are made for running,
Not the desert air.
I'm sweating off my problems, they're running down my face,
Slipping off my nose in a never-ending race,
My pulsing stress is gone,
Floating above in space.
I open my eyes wishing madly it was true,
The only dream where I don't know who,
Who I am and want to be,
In a little town called Bloom.