Из альбома: Echoes From the Underground
A serenade is through, and all the fireworks, fade away.
A gathering is gone, so, no more holiday.
On the run (run), till we're done (done), away again.
Nothing left (left), out of breath (breath), we waste again.
It doesn't really matter. No, it doesn't anyway.
I held on...
To long...
I just can't break through...
I free you. (Oh...)
I free you...
Your sadder days are best, to remember, none of this.
Nobody comes around, to remind me, of what I miss.
Written down (down), on the ground (ground), away again.
Something wrong (wrong), now it's gone (gone), to waste again.
It doesn't really matter. No, it doesn't anyway.
I held on...
To long...
I just can't break through...
I free you. (Oh...)
I free you...
I free you. (Oh...)
I free you...
I hear it. I hear it. I hear it.
A frozen on the tracks, before the train. I hear it.
The bullet size, before the pain. I hear it.
Waiting for the flash, up in the sky. I hear it.
I take the fall into the light.
I held on...
To long...
I free you. (Oh...)
I free you...
I free you. (Oh...)
I free you...
(Oh... Oh... Oh...)