Fire in your sleep’s colder, you preach
You see through allies see fields in your mind
The world spins and weeps for those words you won’t keep
The galaxy sleeps you are fallen and weak
There’s a clock there’s a grave
There’s a home for the brave
There’s a tree there’s a spire
Where’s the funeral pyre?
Those names on a page shrivel and age
When all that you meant was borrowed and spent
The world spins you weep for those words you won’t keep
Your gallantry sleeps when you fall you are weak
There’s a clock, there’s a grave
There’s a home for the brave
There’s a tree there’s a spire
But no funeral pyre
There’s a clock, there’s a grave
There’s a home for the brave
There’s a tree there’s a spire
But no funeral pyre