Fields of gold
And all that shines
You knew just where to look
Yet you did not wish to find
Drawn and quartered by the fate of one's own hand
Don't need to search for peace
When you don't wish to understand

Empty skies leave nothing to hold
Like the tears of December
Leave you broken and so cold

Within this house of mourning
You'll find no doors
Upon the floors of the forsaken
You choose to walk once more
No regrets, you turn and ignore
Choose what you see
Play the blind man once more

Empty skies leave nothing to hold
Like the tears of December
Leave you broken and so cold

As you trip inside this home and start to drift
So far, so far away
As tomorrow walks with the hopes you can't recall
As the tears of December, they begin to fall

Empty skies leave nothing to hold
Like the tears of December
Leave you broken and so cold

Copyright: REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Writer(s): ZACHARY WYLDE