| Would you go if I asked you to go?
|
| Where death, knuckles and fingers; |
| meet the snow
|
| Could you ever get that high without Lowe?
|
| Burnt skin will not stop giving you throes
|
| Death feels like home
|
| Death feels like home
|
| Don’t tell them about all your anxious woes
|
| Breathing heavy but heart rates slow
|
| Legs are cramping, but you still go
|
| You create beautiful designs
|
| Clouded calculations with straight lines
|
| Death feels like home
|
| Don’t let them in
|
| Step by step, you’re so close to the summit
|
| You might be the first
|
| You’ll scream from the top of your lungs
|
| Until your throat bursts
|
| You won’t stop although it hurts
|
| Hunt’s mission to heal Mallory’s schlep
|
| So tell me, Hillary, what’s the next step?
|
| Breathing heavy but heart rates slow
|
| Legs are cramping, but you still go
|
| You create beautiful designs
|
| Clouded calculations with straight lines
|
| Don’t let them in
|
| Don’t show them the fears beneath your skin
|
| The cold air fill your lungs
|
| They say brave men always die young
|
| Death feels like home
|
| Don’t let them in |