At the end of days, at the end of time,

when the Sun burns out, will any of this matter?

Who will be there to remember who we were?

Who will be there to know that any of this had meaning for us?



And in retrospect I'll say we've done no wrong.

Who are we to judge what's right and what has purpose for us?

With designs upon ourselves to do no wrong,

running wild, unaware of what might come of us.



The Sun was born, so it shall die,

'til only shadows comfort me.

I know in darkness I will find you giving up inside like me.

Each day shall end as it begins

and though you're far away from me

I know in darkness I will find you giving up inside like me.



(repeat)



Without a thought I will see everything eternal,

forget that once we were just dust from heavens far.

As we were forged we shall return, perhaps some day,

I will remember us and wonder who we were.



The Sun was born, so it shall die,

'til only shadows comfort me.

I know in darkness I will find you giving up inside like me.

Each day shall end as it begins

and though you're far away from me

I know in darkness I will find you giving up inside like me.



(repeat)