|
To return to the cold |
|
It isn't much fun |
|
To touch the trees no one has known |
|
Go rest your head |
|
Cause you can't miss this |
|
Poor boy became |
|
A slave to use |
|
Now despair moves in so close |
|
Too many years free at last |
|
He didn't know so learned to speak |
|
He clears his throat |
|
Cause you can't miss this |
|
[Chorus] |
|
Poor boy became |
|
A slave to use |
|
Rebuild what's left |
|
Of this child, so weak |
|
Sorry, changes, trample the plan |
|
Death, stores, victims |
|
Once more |
|
Keep on burnin' through the noose |
|
To return, to the cold |
|
It isn't much, but I'm free at last |
