You decide to be alone.
And hell is cold enough to hibernate
so let her drift into the snow.
It's where she chooses how to operate.
It might be time to pack her in.
Set the sails and just get all the way-
maybe east or something.
The west was overrated anyway and the storms coming down.
These old walls are wearing thin.
There's an ache to this town.
And something's gotta give in
when digging for gold, and coming out dry.
Just a matter of time.
Just a matter of time