I long to walk among the spires, the futile reach towards the skies.
To celebrate, what we deny, that the choice was wrong.
I long to cross these quiet lands, the skies reflected on the ground.
Would all seem saved, redeemed and pure, if what I’d lost were found again.

What will [bad word] of us, I ask, should this chance pass us by?
Our lives spent living with regret if [bad word] to nothing.
To know we’d found for us, in this, the chance of some safe haven.
With every step we walk away, like we’re gazing at the sun.

I long to sense, among the lies, the chronicles of everything.
Every thought, every word and deed, all that is and has ever been.
Through the tears that you have cried, the song remains and plays again.
The proof of who and what we are, as we meet the morning skies.

What will [bad word] of us, I ask, should this chance pass us by?
Our lives spent living with regret if [bad word] to nothing.
To know we’d found for us, in this, the chance of some safe haven.
With every step we walk away, like we’re gazing at the sun.

Aware for once how far [bad word]  as we greet the morning skies.
All that we know, all that might have been, in place of joy an uneasy calm.
Discarded chances, failed attempts, greatest hours and our sufferance.

What will [bad word] of us, I ask, should this chance pass us by?
Our lives spent living with regret if [bad word] to nothing.
To know we’d found for us, in this, the chance of some safe haven.
With every step we walk away, like we’re gazing at the sun.

What will [bad word] of us, I ask?
Discarded chances, failed attempts...
What will [bad word] of us, I ask?
...the chance of some safe haven.