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• Artiste: Wringer
• Titre: American Grandstand
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I can see it crystal-clear, a stone souvenir A monument of abstract values here Unrelenting in what it represents A testament to fortitude and opportunity And a memory of wasted dreams I'm waiting for them to come true All the things we had in mind, forever enshrined Fallen by the way and left behind Was it only an absurd fantasy? History doesn't mean the same to you and me More than words ringing in my ears You cast a stone, I'll make amends Just put the chisel in my hands Cuz all we'll ever need is something to believe Not self-descructive creed, so childish as it seems When everything we have is just a dream