We grow apart
We drift like continents
Do we know who we are?
Live truth or consequence
My chasinâ storms
Dark clouds on the horizon
I think Iâm getting warm
So much closer to my origins
La de da de da
We are the lost writers of yesterday
We are the dead writers of history
We are the driftwood washed up on the shore
Salvaged by a beachcomber
All-night diner
Iâm running low on time
Itâs now forever
Iâll walk the flattest line
But Iâm the one-and-only
Was an emperor of loneliness
I got no time for enemies
Iâm the maker of my destiny
La de da de da
We are the deaf ears to a distant warn
The dusty paperbacks in a used bookstore
We are the driftwood washed up on the shore
Salvaged by a beachcomber
We are the lost kings
We are the rebel voices
La de da de da
We are the forgotten language
We are the castle ruins
La de da de da
We are the driftwood washed up on the shore
Salvaged by a beachcomber
We grow apart
We drift like continents
Do we know who we are?
Live truth or consequence