Nothing Changes on New Year’s Day —
Under a blood red sky A crowd has gathered in black and white Arms entwined, the chosen few The newspaper says, says Say it’s true, it’s true And we can break through Though torn in two We can be one
You are facing the south side of a white house. There is no door here, and all the windows are boarded.
Under a blood red sky A crowd has gathered in black and white Arms entwined, the chosen few The newspaper says, says Say it’s true, it’s true And we can break through Though torn in two We can be one