Tearing down the monument

That's been a sign of what you stand for

The stones it's made from are too old to survive this

The future years in icy rain

When we'll be gone

You bear the torment sometimes

Hardly trusting yourself, sometimes

Standing motionless sometimes, when the fury takes control

Pretending glory for the blind, sometimes

Diving through an underpass

Running fast between the raindrops

Tracking down your intuition

Inverting words that we believed

And we are gone