So, this is not the year I break ground My script burns instead on the scaffold Follow the sun wherever it goes I make my home, in a high wind If I stay on the ground, nothing awaits me I would die in sunlight or resonate Follow the sun wherever it goes I make my home, in a high wind Enshrine these dreams in a golden grave Forever carve their wane into the mountain face If I fall down I will crawl on If I die, I die