When the light dies down and you blood runs cold
Then you know what you fear most is growing old
The clock winds down and the bells will toll
For the dawn that follows may require your soul
Through the narrows there are few who pass
Only the cho
When the light dies down and you blood runs cold
Then you know what you fear most is growing old
The clock winds down and the bells will toll
For the dawn that follows may require your soul
Through the narrows there are few who pass
Only the cho
When the light dies down and you blood runs cold
Then you know what you fear most is growing old
The clock winds down and the bells will toll
For the dawn that follows may require your soul
Through the narrows there are few who pass
Only the cho