WHEN THE DAYS ARE COLD; AND THE CARDS ALL FOLD; AND THE SAINTS WE SEE ARE MADE OF GOLD; WHEN YOUR DREAMS ALL FAIL; AND THE ONES WE HAIL; ARE THE WORST OF ALL; THE BLOOD'S RUN STALE, I WANNA HIDE THE TRUTH, I WANNA SHELTER YOU; NO MATTER WHAT WE BREED
WE'RE STILL MADE OF GREED. BUT WITH THE BEAST INSIDE THERE'S NOWHERE WE CAN HIDE. THIS IS MY KINGDOM COME,
THIS IS MY KINGDOM COME.