| Drifting through the marsh
|
| We made it just outside the bend
|
| No one had sought the cost
|
| We all lost in the end
|
| And when the harsh and bitter cold
|
| Struck down the last of our lone wolves
|
| We painted black our faces
|
| With their blood and ashes
|
| Then we stoked the flames and rode the wind
|
| Bogged down by the waves
|
| We spotted hope in that old lighthouse in the dark
|
| But it’s too late
|
| We’re not whole
|
| We’re not welcome anymore
|
| And never the same
|
| We’re still battling our old ways
|
| A peace made with a man and his disease
|
| He saw their pain
|
| And he couldn’t help but feel the connection
|
| The realization all this was for him
|
| Now he drops to his knees and asks again
|
| We burn the woods
|
| To learn the worst
|
| It hurts
|
| But still we can’t give in
|
| It can’t be fate
|
| It can’t be moved
|
| Get over it
|
| Just move along and don’t look down
|
| Just keep yourself alive
|
| You’re up and moving down the road
|
| But still can’t find those hidden stones
|
| No I can’t do this on my own
|
| 'cause I need you to bring me home
|
| All night burns
|
| The most of all the worst
|
| And best have got a lot to live
|
| But they have graves
|
| So tell me not
|
| Of the tales that strike our fears
|
| They can disappear
|
| 'cause I’m still battling my old ways |