Where we crossed the land
And built around a world
And laid tired on top. We were re all married with our wounds.
Leaned on, wrote the measures on the walls unfading, but cursed
And this is what we left behind
While we coursed the row - we
Left heritage among millions of dear faults
Just to run steady on the walls
The same reward, a single fraud
The same old pleasures that we cursed"¦(in this world)
Sing with us of every fault
The same old chorus
What we cursed in this world