Big Big Train High Tide, Last Stand
Last stand, flyblown
When did we grow old
When did we learn that
In every goodbye there
Is a scene of death
None of the old rules apply
We're into the not knowing
Red curved roof
Now shedding its tiles
It's over
Footnote, endpiece
How did we get here
When did we learn that
In every goodbye there
Is a scene of death
