Text: Forward, Russia. Fosbury In Discontent.

So the time comes again
The time to head away
I would love to stay
Convince you that I care
At home I feel a million types of gladness
Protected from the world
But still you turn and stare
At your feet again
What more can I say
To convince you that I care
At home I feel a million types of sadness
And subtle edited
Sometimes I feel that you're raising the bar up
All the time
I'm doing the high jump
I'm walking the tightrope
The sun is life
The process of knowing
Just what you are missing
The oceans of envy
The galloping slipstream
The night it is ending
The oceans are longing
For soil and for tidings
I won't let them near us
I'll try not to lie and
I'll try not to cheat and
I'll try not to steal
Because my ends are met
In discontent
Oh in discontent
We find ourselves