At The Swinging Of The Doors
Stuck in that corner of the woods,
Where beauty bleeds n' the hearts are clay,
And hope is a distant mutant ray
That fractures at the break of day.
You wake to find the same grey dust
On every window pane,
And the weight of all the yesterdays
Like rust upon the train tracks laid in vain.
You want leave, got plans for today,
But you're chained by every mistake.
Counting the cost of what it's gonna take...
At the swingin' of the doors,
Do you hear the future roarin'
Or just the silence it pours?
Is it freedom you are headin' for,
Or just a different set of wars?
At the swingin' of the doors
Keep goin'
Keep goin'
Keep goin'
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