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 maids not far behind
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 life reserved for a friend

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): STEPHEN KILBEY