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