Drainpipes

In the land with no drainpipes there's a girl with a flute in her throat She's only in bloom whispering by the command of a ghost She dares not to speak knowing tahat this would unfold The lack of a voice, genuinely hers all alone In the land with no drainpipes again they are switching their seats A new order to what has bored them enough, where's the news? So she, Sophie, buys herself a skeleton to simply believe That there once was a shape underneath our infinite possibilities Bring her snowstorms Bring her back to the chain Bring the dictator who is now sleeping in vain