| Slowburn skies
|
| Birds on a silent lake
|
| Tied to the maps we make filled with diversions
|
| Oh what have we done
|
| What have we done to this
|
| Oh where do we go
|
| Where do we go from here
|
| Shouldn’t we try
|
| To wake up the child in our eyes
|
| Before the wolves find glory
|
| Rewind and take it all back to one
|
| Hold on, oh this brightheart will never be the same
|
| Hold on, oh this brightheart will never be the same
|
| Arctic nights
|
| Words fall like fire and ice
|
| Drowning any afterglow left from the golden days
|
| Oh what have we done
|
| What have we done to this
|
| Oh where do we go
|
| Where do we go from here
|
| Shouldn’t we try
|
| To wake up the child in our eyes
|
| Before the wolves find glory
|
| Rewind and take it all back to one
|
| Hold on, oh this brightheart will never be the same
|
| Hold on, oh this brightheart will never be the same
|
| Hold on, oh this brightheart will never be the same
|
| Hold on, oh this brightheart will never be the same |