Time For The Final Bout.
Rows Of Deserted Houses..
All Our Stable Mates Are Highway Bound.
Give Us Our Measly Sum:
Getting The Air Inside My Lungs Is Heavenly.
We're Starting Out With Nothing But Crippling Doubt.

We'll Rest Easy (justified).
I've Suffered A Swift Defeat.
I'll Endure Countless Repeats.
The Gift Of Memory Is An Awful Curse,
With Age It Just Gets Much Worse,
But I Won't Mind.

I Won't Mind..
I Won't Mind..
I Won't Mind..