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