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Lots

Head south headstrong

Wake each grey dawn

Hold on weakness

No prints princess

Mother my nest

Once choice to make

Get ready to goFeel like we've been here before

Without a choice and insecure

Of where we'd be without this net around

Yet we've always hated itNow we stand a chance to break the chains

And break lance that cuts into the heart

And burns the essence of our dreams desireNo hope in sight

Held on too tight

Skylines burnt down

No crops dust cloud

Blind dogs run deep

Pale surf, cold feet

Once choice to make

Get ready to go

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