Nothing on smoke todayNothing dies on the wingWing’s been losing timeAn anarchy born in painPain that comes and goesIt goes against all you seeYou see I got gables eyesAnd eisenhower blames the poorThe poor huddled on the curbGotta get back in shapeWe’re backing up a major planWe’re treading on ? ? ? ? lightsWe’re walking under golden sunWe’re living in a planet of dreamsWe’re living in a planet of dreamsWe’re living in a planet of dreamsWe’re living in a planet of dreamsWe’re living in a planet of dreamsWe’re living in a planet(5 more times)Do do do do