Album: Almost Here
A source of anger, a source of need
A kind of rage inside him I can see
He walks on past me
I follow close and let the fear inside him flow
A sense of reason, a sense of aim
Created this, created pain
Threw down his pay, meant to run away
Truth and honour combined
To make the same mistakes
You make the same mistakes again
Leave it all on the table
Leave it all up to him.