Ben Nichols
The Last Pale Light in the West
In my hands, I hold the ashesIn my veins, black pitch drumsIn my chest, if I can catch thisIn my way, the setting sunDark clouds gather 'round meDue northwest, the soul is boundAnd I will go on ahead, freeThere's a light yet to be foundThe last pale light in the westThe last pale light in the westAnd I ask for no redemptionIn this cold and barron placeStill I see the faint reflectionAnd so by it, I got my wayThe last pale light in the westThe last pale light in the west
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