Bruce DickinsonInertia

These are the pictures These are the feelings from the front line Living in silence Feeling the deafness like heavy smoke Smiling with strangers counting days Like a spring coiled up inside Welcome to your future Welcome to your book of life Fingers crawl through pages Nothing changes living here Inertia No wish to move at all Inertia Everything's a stone wall Inertia History let's you die A ragged pile of silent accusers Smell the blood of strangers here No eyes no ears no smell no taste The mouth of the maggot is full of this place Murdered conscience the pressure is crushing heads Like paper lanterns now Unbreakable grip a dead hand Driving us forward to the end Kicking through the traces A thousand years from now
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