I am writing this diary of a dead man walking
That no one will ever read
The sun is going down for the last time
And on this empty highway nothing moves
Through the orange haze I recognize
Figures of twisted metal and concrete
From ashes to ashes from dust to dust
(The vision dims)
That no one will ever read
The sun is going down for the last time
And on this empty highway nothing moves
Through the orange haze I recognize
Figures of twisted metal and concrete
From ashes to ashes from dust to dust
(The vision dims)