So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain.

Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil?

Do you think you can tell?



And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees?

Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change?

And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?



How I wish, how I wish you were here.

We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,

Running over the same old ground. What have you found? The same old fears.

Wish you were here