Down the Hills Video (MV)

Thinking about the weather
You are wandering around
To the sound of the empty fields

You miss the poison in the air
But this smell
Is something so rare

The steam of the streets looks sad
When you see the fog between the trees
And hear the whistles of the breeze

There's nothing around to fear
Nothing around to drop a tear

Don't fall for their lies
The concrete, rust and smoky skies
Numbers, guns and ordinary lives