We're dying but we cannot die. The tales that we
wrote were much greater than us. This is not the
new start we thought we fought for. It's the finish-
ing words, the finishing words of a final chapter.

The veins in your arms, like branches they stretch
out, like the roads on a map. The veins in your
arms, they lead to your heart but they're not
bringing me home.

We're dying but we cannot die. The tales that we
wrote were much greater than us. This is not the
new start we thought we fought for. It's the finish-
ing words, the finishing words of a final chapter.