Far across a land of steel and windows Deep beneath a warm and cloudy dome Countless voices sit and cry about which way the wind blows And walk through fire to save their own
Who will guide them now They must keep awake somehow
Their crimson fool reflections keep fear away To where only a glance can remain With soft eyes they wince through the cold And in dark times they wait to grow old
They talk with their minds wide open But they move with their hands against the wall Forgetting each and every tie they've broken Looking for tomorrow to end it all