The wind that blows right through me casts shadows in my head.
Expecting people killing on the long, dark road ahead, oh mystics and statistics, somehow they always knew, cities will be burning and we will slow to you.
Shoulder to shoulder back to back we fight, (inaudible) holding back tonight, oh mystics and statistics, somehow they always knew, we were made to walk through this . . .
fire.
Oh mystics and statistics, somehow they always knew, we were made to walk through this . . .
fire.
We were made to walk through this . . .
fire.
(Made to walk the fi-i-ire x4)
