A warming chill

But I, I keep myself alight

I keep myself upright

Waiting to come alive

Waiting to just stop dying

Waiting to just stop dying, yeah ooh ooh ooh

I ain’t got a plan

Does that make me a vagrant

Does that make me foolish

I am just a friend

Of dreams

Every tool is a weapon if you hold it right.

The world will never be the same again.

After arctic auroras pale above true flames

After white bears drown under black floodwaters

You can hear the roar of the sea and its waves

And the wind blows hard on your face.

It’s like the aftermath of a terrible fire

As broken glass sands down in the tumbling wind.

After heavy ash falls from the sky.

You can see the shadow of a man who’s lost his mind.

With eyes that are hollow and all black inside.

He stops to watch the flames in the distance