Where have you gone, from me? The one that I loved endlessly. Does it have to be so cold in Ireland? Does it have to be so cold in Ireland, for me? Are they ready for me? Here is a story Of hope and of glory. He's eighteen years old And well I fell in

Kill the inside and let it burn Tell the lonely where to go He’s not the only without hope A moment of something where the dark can reverse The fire may not open, but the devil will return Insanity or glory, in a mind that never learns The empty eyes are