Desert Rose (Sting)

I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

I dream of fire
Those dreams that tie two hearts that will never die
And near the flames
The shadows play in the shape of the man's desire

This desert rose
Whose shadow bears the secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume that would torture you more than this

And now she turns
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns
I realize that nothing's as it seems

I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

I dream of rain
I lift my gaze to empty skies aboveI close my eyes
The rare perfume is the sweet intoxication of love
I dream of rainI dream of gardens in the desert sandI wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

Sweet desert rose
Whose shadow bears the secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume that would torture you more than this

Sweet desert rose
This memory of hidden hearts and souls
This desert flower
This rare perfurme is the sweet intoxication of love

Chances Are (Invertigo)

Some of us made of concrete
Some of us made of sand
Some of us like the clear blue water
Others catching it in their hands
But we'll all just fade

Some of us made of steel
Some of us like the earth
Some of us are the clear blue sky
When others fly through the air
But we'll all just fade so is it
Better to say

Chances are what you feel
Is like everyone else
Who is wrong? What is real?
You can ask yourself
But if you find a way
You can always carry on

Chances are what you need
Is like everyone else
It's in you, it's in me
You can see yourself
But if you find a way
You can always carry on

Some of us breaking like ice
Some of us like a stone
Some are just like the blowing wind
Others always are getting thrown

And when you say you won't make tomorrow
Cause tomorrow feels like the rest
Yeah you can break this viscous circle
Everyone who hurts feels no less

Some of us like a secret
Some of us open books
And some you can tell but either way
You can't tell by just a look
Then we all just fade anyway