Well I'm lost in a back street bar in some obscure part of town
Propping up my mortal coil trying hardest not to drown
Alcohol delivers my need and my head is spinning round
Falling deeper in to the grip of a wild imagination
In my subject haze, I can't help myself smiling
The lure of the dollar signs, I must say is quite appealing
The cogs begin to fire and spark, moving in to overload
Voices sing, the music starts, this show is on the road
Dreams of tomorrow
Fuel our determination
Dreams of tomorrow
Big league syncopation
Time is closing again, I got to pack up my dream bags and go
Out in to a cold winter's night, out in to the real world
Down and out trying to work it out in which direction to go
I can see them laughing at me, they'll never, ever know
Dreams of tomorrow
Fuel our determination
Dreams of tomorrow
Big league syncopation
Dreams of tomorrow
Fuel our determination
Dreams of tomorrow
Big league syncopation
Dreams of tomorrow
Dreams of tomorrow
Dreams of tomorrow