so, so you think you can tell heaven from h-ll,
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.