Top of the Road - Iwan Rheon

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

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 is 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