Can we find our way home before losing everything?
I can't say for sure because it's still happening
And it's true we've been known to fall for pots of gold and leprechauns
There's no chauffeur on this ride life's offering
And all things change
Become our own cliché
There's just minutes to midnight
Is there any blood left in our hearts?
Change is constant
Finish line's in sight
Is there and air left in our lungs?
In these final days
And it cuts to the bone, this war fought beyond the Rubicon
I seek the cure for this pain we're suffering
And all things change
We sleep in beds we've made
If I lost it all, where would it leave me?
In these final days.
There's just minutes to midnight
Is there any blood left in our hearts?
In these final days.
Can we find our way back home
Far beyond the Rubicon
In these final days.
Falling again.
Can we find our way before it?
I don't know, it's almost midnight
Can we find our way?
Yes, we're on our own
We've seen better days
Sleep in beds we've made
Writer(s): Flynn Eliot G Gower, Lucius Nicoli Borich, Luke Gower
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