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by Last Train

When we leave, these miles behind us,
We see the fire on the mountain,
We see the fire, Holy Fire.
As we run,
the top's coming down,
and the flamme, keeps on shining
As we crawl,
All things are falling,
And our shadows become silver lightning,
All smokes go up,
All minds go down,
And it keeps on burning.
When we left,
These miles behind us,
We saw the mountains facing each other,
And now all the moutains, are gone in the fire.
Oh Holy Fire!
Holy fire!
We saw the mountains, black as a feather,
Now all the mountains, are gone in the fire.
Holy Fire!

Contributed by Abigail V. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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