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Iwan Rheon
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Top of the Road
A lovely morning, at least that's what he's told
The sky is blue but cold.
And on the same bus with the suits and the fools
The driver's jokes get old.
Can you scream silenty? Can you just explode?
The bus goes on and on.
They said he'd find it at the top of the road.
Desire in his soul.
All this is, is wind blowing over you.
All this is, is wind blowing over you.
And then he sees them, their sure flashes of smiles
Those leaflets and their words
They talk of new things and the state of this land,
The only way to go.
And then they show him what we've been doing wrong
The values that they hold.
They said he'd find it at the top of the road
Desire in his soul.
All this is, is wind blowing over you.
All this is, is wind blowing over you.
All this is, is wind blowing over you.
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All this is, is wind blowing over you.
Can you fight it? Can you fight it?
The truth's on hold but maybe you like it?
Can you fight it? Can you fight it?
The truth's on hold but maybe you like it?
All this is, is wind blowing over you.
All this is, is wind blowing over you.
You see this bordom is destructive and cold
When brainwashed by false hope.
Like many young men he despises us all
Those white, those black, those brown
And it's so easy to just hate him away
Disgusting's what you say.
He went and found it at the top of your road
This disillusioned soul.
He went and found it at the top of your road
Desire in his soul.
He went and found it at the top of your road
This disillusioned soul.
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