Pack your bags, we leave at dawn. We move in cycles.
The story is always the same.
We take who we can with us and then we get out.
Burn. We watch it burn right before our eyes.
There's no turning back now.
Burn. We watch it burn right before our eyes.
There's no turning back now.
Fall to your knees and ask yourself:
"Will we ever make it home?"
The question that remains will be lifted to the heavens.
We've burned this city and it's crumbling.
Grab your things, we're leaving now.
Onto the next one.
I swear it's always the same.
We take who we can with us and leave the rest in shame.
Shame. Shame.
