England seemed like such a beautiful place from afar until one day I saw how miserable things really are all fantastic images they only are apparent propagated just by hope and desire to share it beauty was the allure that brought me close to you loneliness was the bond that made me stick like glue all fantastic images they only are apparent promoted by desperate hope that things are somewhere better I don't have a thing against fantasy but to chase it down just doesn't make sense to me if your only hope is simply peace and love you end up discarding most of what you're made of what you're made of... all fantastic images they only are apparent promoted by desperate hope that things are somewhere better