Tobin - Ben Nichols, Benjamin Nichols

In my hands, I hold the ashes

In my veins, black pitch drums

In my chest, if I can catch this

In my way, the setting sun

Dark clouds gather 'round me

Due northwest, the soul is bound

And I will go on ahead, free

There’s a light yet to be found

The last pale light in the west

The last pale light in the west

And I ask for no redemption

In this cold and barron place

Still I see the faint reflection

And so by it, I got my way

The last pale light in the west

The last pale light in the west