All of the people. All of those ordinary lives. Building on the outskirts of my mind. They ride the iron pilgrim. To holidays for the head. If plans were hand grenades we'd all be dead. It's dark. It's dark where the roses grow. There's something that you should know. Before you see the light. It's dark. It's dark where the roses grow. There are places I have to go. Before I see the light. Playing all five stages. The festival of grief. God and problems. What can stop them realise. The bottles in the drugstore. Are all just piss and ink. The flags you wore are rags under the sink. It's dark. It's dark where the roses grow. There's something that you should know. Before you see the light. It's dark. It's dark where the roses grow. There are places I have to go. Before I see the light