Bury everything you own
On a hill in Peckham Rye
Say a prayer for those you've known
As trace of fire scars the sky
A heaven of abandoned stars
River running black and red
Fight your way through crowds and cars
As rockets flower overhead
Meet me in the dust cloud
As The Towers tumble all around
We can be ghosts now
We don't ever have to make a sound
Meet me in the white light
As the city slowly lifts away
We can be a ghost now
With the memory of another day
Meet me in the white light,
in the white light now…

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