Waiting by the gates of heaven for nothing you have seen
Waiting by the gates of hell for everything
Waiting by the roadside for a past you've grown from since
Waiting for a glimpse of what you'd been
Dead mountains surround you
Your friends they don't care anyway
Any day
They'll turn you in
It's in the air
Waiting by the gates of freedom for time and nothing less
Waiting for the last in line, the rest
Waiting for a glimpse of hope
A sliver through the vent
Waiting on the wire to repent
Dead birds around you
You'll make friends in there anyway
Any day
It's in the air.