Day, fades away, as hand aflame, I
Have spread my arms apart to fly
Above the clouds, above the high
Mountains of fantasies, so why
Would you my own self, oh why
Stop me from being free, you
The policing of soul is true,
Cause I’m working as my
Own huge army, and I
Must fight my self
To win my self
And lose
My self
Story Of The Footloose 