A Home For The Brave

Fire in your sleep’s colder, you preach

You see through allies see fields in your mind

The world spins and weeps for those words you won’t keep

The galaxy sleeps you are fallen and weak

There’s a clock there’s a grave

There’s a home for the brave

There’s a tree there’s a spire

Where’s the funeral pyre?

Those names on a page shrivel and age

When all that you meant was borrowed and spent

The world spins you weep for those words you won’t keep

Your gallantry sleeps when you fall you are weak

There’s a clock, there’s a grave

There’s a home for the brave

There’s a tree there’s a spire

But no funeral pyre

There’s a clock, there’s a grave

There’s a home for the brave

There’s a tree there’s a spire

But no funeral pyre