Nobody asks you where you are going,
Nobody knows where you're from.

Here is a man asking the question
Is this really the end of the world?

Seagull, you must have known for a long time
The shape of things to come.

Now you fly, through the sky, never asking why,
And you fly all around 'til somebody, Shoots you down.

Seagull go and fly,
Fly to your tomorrow, leave me to my sorrow, fly.

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