How long can this journey go on?
Will I find the place I'm meant to go?
Will dreams fall down around us, just like the winter snow?
Another year has come and gone.
Will my luck hold on for one year more?
I think of how far I have come, and what's been left behind.

When will they carry my body down?
When will they carry my body down?
Will they take it from the river
after I've jumped right in and drowned?
Will they find it on the battlefield, on the spot I stood my ground?

I walk alone, I walk apart. Someday, I'll wander no more.
I search to find what I have lost and that which I've never known.
And when I find that I have gone across that river I know,
I'll take only my memories, and things that might have been.

When will they carry my body down?
When will they carry my body down?
Will they cut it from a hangman's noose
after the sentence has come down?
Will anyone be there to mourn a villain's passing to the ground?

When will they carry my body down?
When will they carry my body down?

When will they carry my body down?