In his arms, locked in that iron grip nothing will reveal Follow these footsteps and we will reach the bottom
I tumbled down the road that bears his name Here he dwells, here he prospers and pushes us towards the end
When we are drifting against the tide Colliding with the very air we breathe Somewhere the tracks inwards must lead out A grasp of hope that defeats the will
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Copy to Clipboard: In his arms, locked in that iron grip nothing will reveal Follow these footsteps and we will reach the bottom
I tumbled down the road that bears his name Here he dwells, here he prospers and pushes us towards the end
When we are drifting against the tide Colliding with the very air we breathe Somewhere the tracks inwards must lead out A grasp of hope that defeats the will
Always pushed away Always nothing
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