Speaker for the Dead - Gatsbys American Dream

Beaches make the sand white

Make the sand all romantic and shit

Palm trees, branches, imagine them

Green, naive, and shining with pride

Oh arrogant island being buried in humility

Like the beaches were buried in ash

Who will remember you now

Billows and billows see the smoke rise

Smoke stack for every sin

But did they believe that

At the center of the island was a volcano oh no

Oh no

Who will remember you now

You’re dead and gone

We came here on a plane

Just a couple of scientists

Among the ruins and remains

This island could have been saved

But some people just choose death

And can’t see a way out

Till their bones are all that’s left

Their chests were hollowed out

But some people never know

Too caught up in the beautiful

But their hearts a volcano