They're coming round again. I've returned and they've been waiting. Their aged offerings received and returned, passed through wet eyes. I tremble as I feel them rolling in for, my sins, the old ghosts know. So chilling as I feel them mourn within my soul. As the mourning grows. Unfold before me. Turn back the page again. Twenty-four hours spent wishing that the day was never ending. Shadows of glory shading my heart again. Recall the summer when I left my heart to cool beneath the shadows. I'm coming round again. I've returned and noone's been waiting. I strain my eyes to see but it's so hard to read old tags on fallen walls.
Writer(s): Hunter Lawrence Burgan, Adam A Carson, Jade Errol Puget, David Paden Marchand
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