15/22

I'm twenty-two, but my mind is stuck in a Teenage dream where we pushed our luck. Fifteen years old in the summer heat, The whole wide world on a Moscow street, Moscow street. F1 racing down by the shore, I thought that The good times would last evermore, evermore. We had the whole globe in the palm of Our hand, in our hand. A technicolor youth in a promised land. Yeah, Promised land. We watched the World Cup in neon Overdrive, Back when the stadiums were burning alive. The heroes of the West walking under our sky, Singing loud anthems we couldn't deny. Saw Billie Eilish on her game just laughing it Out. Yeah, that was the era we're dreaming about. Now the borders are locked and the signal is Drained, but I carry the ghost of a phantom Campaign. Now I am older, the city is quiet, Quiet. Missing the noise of a festival riot. Scrolling the feed from a room in the dark, Looking for embers to kindle a spark. F1 racing down by the shore, I thought that The good times would last evermore, evermore. We had the whole globe in the palm of Our hand, in our hand. A technicolor youth in a promised land. Yeah, Promised land. We watched the World Cup in a Neon overdrive, Back when the stadiums were burning alive. The heroes of the West walking under our sky, Singing loud anthems we couldn't deny. Saw Billie Eilish on her game just laughing it Out. Yeah, that was the era we're dreaming about. Now the borders are locked and the signal is Drained, but I carry the ghost of a phantom Campaign. It breaks my heart to see the era fade, And lose the global promises we made. But I'm twenty-two, and the static will clear, And we will make up for every missing year. It's not the fade-out, the tape is still Spinning. It's just the end of beginning, End of beginning, and we'll press play Again.