August 12 Lyrics

Old maps of the world
Cover the walls.
Relics of a dying age
Spill out into the hall.
One day I'll go.
One day I'll leave this all behind.

Take the fire and run
Down that hill before sunrise.
May the southern wind speed you,
The gods are on your heels.
There's no shelter here,
No respite from the bright lights
Only solace in the dying ground
That falls away
With everything you left behind.

I don't plan to remember this.

Do you remember that fire
Burning bright in the sky?
Do you remember when the guns arrived
And we all went underground?
May it all disappear in a flash from the sky
May the hours scatter like flocks of birds
Painted fire gold in the rays of a dying sun.

I don't plan to remember this.