Shouldn't fight what's coming
Ebb and flow, cynical as we roll
When you find your low
Underground and crawling slow
Searching out our fate
Locked behind a guarded gate
We're alone, but it's crowded
Here, inside, no priest will venture
We are dead, we are dead, yet again
Much too long been digging
Much too proud of the jewel you found
Got that balance at your back
Like a guardsman making rounds
To the light we keep digging
And I'll be damned if I'll turn back now
Whichever path I make my own
Until I'm rotting in the ground
Don't let it find your number
Redefine always right on time
Don't let it find your number
You might just lose your mind