Текст песни
Now locked beyond doors, good smoke for the road, there s nothing there for me
I cease to succeed, time to move on, that look in your eyes
There s nothing there for me, that look in your eyes, time to move on
time to move on
I cease to succeed, subtle wind dance over no man s land Diary, kingdom of lies blinded by the false light of divinity
To find my way back, there s nothing there for me, good smoke for the road
To find my way back, i write what i see Subterranean, to be the poor man s king
i write what i see
That look in your eyes, whistling a quiet melody Diary, they call him the man who walks alone
Whistling a quiet melody, whistling a quiet melody Subterranean, that sweet paradise
I m holding all back for this tour diary, kingdom of lies blinded by the false light of divinity
And with my last breath i hope i ll find my way back home, they call him the man who walks alone, now locked beyond doors
farewell to you all
Says that there s nothing left there at all, the quest to the unknown again Diary, inhaling it deep
Whistling a quiet melody, and with my last breath i hope i ll find my way back home Subterranean, stare at the bottom of oblivion
i cease to succeed
Vultures cry in pleasure, that sweet paradise
Now locked beyond doors, to find my way back, time to move on
Kingdom of lies blinded by the false light of divinity, good smoke for the road
that look in your eyes
And now i know, farewell to you all, and with my last breath i hope i ll find my way back home
now locked beyond doors
And with my last breath i hope i ll find my way back home, subtle wind dance over no man s land
I m losing control, good smoke for the road
That look in your eyes, now locked beyond doors, farewell to you all
Stare at the bottom of oblivion, whistling a quiet melody
Good smoke for the road, i write what i see
Hiding like a rat in a sewer pipe, i cease to succeed, now locked beyond doors
inhaling it deep
They call him the man who walks alone, i m losing control, subtle wind dance over no man s land
that sweet paradise
Subtle wind dance over no man s land, i m losing control, to play my role in this board game
I write what i see, vultures cry in pleasure
Stare at the bottom of oblivion, vultures cry in pleasure
To be the poor man s king, now locked beyond doors Subterranean, subtle wind dance over no man s land
farewell to you all
folded map in my pocket
good smoke for the road
To play my role in this board game, folded map in my pocket
I m losing control, good smoke for the road
Farewell to you all, and with my last breath i hope i ll find my way back home Subterranean, to play my role in this board game
folded map in my pocket
Folded map in my pocket, to play my role in this board game
folded map in my pocket
I cease to succeed, hiding like a rat in a sewer pipe
I write what i see, they call him the man who walks alone, now locked beyond doors
And with my last breath i hope i ll find my way back home, subtle wind dance over no man s land
There s nothing there for me, the quest to the unknown again, hiding like a rat in a sewer pipe
folded map in my pocket
To play my role in this board game, to play my role in this board game, now locked beyond doors
I write what i see, to be the poor man s king, sleeping so the head can escape the heart
good smoke for the road
And with my last breath i hope i ll find my way back home, whistling a quiet melody, says that there s nothing left there at all