| Steady hands
|
| They guide the wheel
|
| The sun is black
|
| Then it’s shades of red
|
| The seasons change
|
| And moments build
|
| We rise to fall
|
| Like dust to wind
|
| The hourglass has burned through
|
| And I can’t fight (and I can’t fight)
|
| The hourglass has burned through
|
| And I can’t fight those final turns
|
| But your soul is a never-ending road
|
| When your heart beats here
|
| Your heart beats
|
| And your doors are never fully closed
|
| When your heart beats here
|
| You’re always
|
| My heart beats
|
| So heavy falls the drum
|
| On still lines we can never shape
|
| And it’s a rhythm etched in time
|
| We fall back in the artist’s clay
|
| The hourglass has burned through
|
| And I can’t fight (and I can’t fight)
|
| The hourglass has burned through
|
| And I can’t fight those final turns
|
| But your soul is a never-ending road
|
| When your heart beats here
|
| Your heart beats
|
| And your doors are never fully closed
|
| When your heart beats here
|
| You’re always
|
| My heart beats
|
| Your soul is a never-ending road
|
| When your heart beats here
|
| Your heart beats
|
| And your doors are never fully closed
|
| When your heart beats here
|
| You’re always
|
| My heart beats
|
| So heavy falls the drum
|
| On still lines we can never shape
|
| And it’s a rhythm etched in time
|
| We fall back in the artist’s clay |