So, so you think you can tell 

heaven from hell, 

blue skys from pain. 

can you tell a green field 

from a cold steel rail? 

a smile from a veil? 

do you think you can tell? 

And did they get you to trade 

your heros for ghosts? 

hot ashes for trees? 

hot air for a cool breeze? 

cold comfort for change? 

and did you exchange 

a walk on part in the war 

for a lead role in a cage? 

How I wish, how I wish you were here. 

we're just two lost souls 

swimming in a fish bowl, 

year after year, 

running over the same old ground. 

what have we found? 

the same old fears. 

wish you were here.