| See the chains which bind the men
|
| Can you taste their lonely arrogance
|
| It’s always too late and your face is so cold
|
| They struggled for this opulence
|
| See the suns which blind the men
|
| Burnt away so long before our time
|
| Now their warmth is forgotten and gone
|
| Pretty maid’s not far behind
|
| Who you trying to get in touch with
|
| Who you trying to get in touch with
|
| Who you trying to get in touch with
|
| I’m almost with you, I can sense it wait for me
|
| I’m almost with you, is this the taste of victory
|
| I’m almost with you
|
| See the dust which fills your sleep
|
| Does it always feel this chill near the end
|
| I never dreamed we’d meet here once more
|
| This laugh reserved for a friend
|
| Who you trying to get in touch with
|
| Who you trying to get in touch with
|
| Who you trying to get in touch with
|
| I’m almost with you, I can sense it wait for me
|
| I’m almost with you, is this the taste of victory
|
| I’m almost with you
|
| I’m almost with you, I can sense it wait for me
|
| I’m almost with you, is this the taste of victory
|
| I’m almost with you, I can sense it wait for me
|
| I’m almost with you, is this the taste of victory
|
| I’m almost with you, I’m almost with you, I’m almost with you |