So, so you think you can tell, heaven from hell, blue skys from pain. Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail, a smile from a veil, do you think you can tell? And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts, hot ashes for trees, hot air for a cool breeze, cold comfort for change, and did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage? How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here!