paroles de chanson Fire On the Moon - Steve Hackett
I
feel
like
I've
been
the
finest
fool
Hanging
on
by
my
fingertips
The
ground
gives
way
beneath
my
feet
A
black
cloud
descends
I
lose
my
grip
Buried
in
the
mud
Lying
here
with
no
relief
The
world
I've
known
is
paper
thin
Torn
in
shreds
my
finest
hour
A
drowning
man
still
battling
One
breath
rattle
gathering
Dust
is
dust,
clean
me
now
All
my
strings
are
gutted
Turn
it
down
In
the
paralytic
nursery
of
bygone
fears
My
old
adversary
reappears
Still
confronted
by
the
many
faces
of
Eve
No
matter
how
I
try
to
heal
this
injury
Still
the
trophies
line
up
on
the
wall
Pride
that
comes
before
a
fall
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