Из альбома: Sound of Truth: The Independent Collection
It was cold, not feeling the cold eyes
were where they belong
Huddled together feel the warmth
Thoughts were where they belong
I walk down the road, leap a ditch
And mount a hill despite the wind
And he bowed on the point of going
How loyal had they been
Make up matters by a grand funeral
How loyal had they been
I could say that to anyone else,
there was no such guilt
Do I have to say it to you I refuse
to set foot
Tired out by play and performance
Heroic but unsung
Final attempt gaining guidance
Heroic but unsung
I see what is right and I do so approve
But I'd rather be lost and feel the groove