歌词
In such a rush to beat the grind
Forget what I set out to find
Trapped in a tale as old as time
The death of better men than me
I'm chasing dragons through this haze
Convince myself it's just a game
Passed by a master and their slave
One and the same is what they'll be
Lord knows this world is cold
No one makes it on their own
God bless the rolling stones
Help them find their holy homes
In such a rush to be the man
Lose track of that for which I stand
Unsure of when this all began
I'll try my best to toe the line
I'm chasing monsters through this maze
Can't quite pretend it's just a game
Lust for your voice to call my name
Or any other kind of sign
Lord knows this world is cold
No one makes it on their own
God bless the rolling stones
Help them find their holy homes
Lord knows this world is cold
No one makes it on their own
God bless the rolling stones
Help them find their holy homes
Written by: Lincoln Jesser
