Pedestals - Kashmir

It came to our coast in a wind of needles and sand

At the end of our street it lost its head in my hand

Tossed in that black November feeling and boom

The tower gave in to its poor steeling too soon

Your luck

Your luck

Your poor luck has turned

Walk on

Walk on

To the bright side the loss is learned

Your luck

Your luck

Your poor luck has turned

Walk on

Walk on

To the bright side the loss is learned

The pedestals to which we hold

All must fall

Don’t built upon

The pedestals to which we hold

All must fall

Don’t built upon

The pedestals

The pedestals

All must fall