Pilots and Paper Planes

Into the fray we can't jump to conclusions For we are not what it seems like Give me your hand, give me your hand I came to you you promised me that you were on just a temporary phase sheets in the wind no harm at all No blood, no foul But now you're

With contrite hearts on the blackest of days We've done our deeds but now we have to pay The social call; the presidents not home The gossip line we never would have known I awoke to the sound of singing in the streets [x2] The sorrow fell like the s