It wasc old, not feeling the cold eyes
Were where they belong
Huddled together feel the warmth
Thoughts were where they belong.
I walk down the road, leap a ditch
And mount a hill despite the wind.
And he bowed on the point of going
How loyal had they been
Make up matters by a grand funeral
How loyal had they been.
I could say that to anyone else,
There was no such guilt.
Do I have to say it to you I refuse
To set foot.
Tired out by play and performance
Heroic but unsung.
Final attempt gaining guidance
Heroic but unsung.
I see what is right and I do so approve
But I'd rather be lost and feel the groove
Writer(s): Brad Merritt, Neil Osborne, Ian Franey
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