Inertia

Bruce Dickinson

These are the pictures

these are the feelings from the frontline

living in silence

feeling the deafness like heavy smoke

smiling with strangers counting days

like a spring coiled up inside

welcome to your future

welcome to your book of life

fingers crawl through pages



nothing changes living here

Inertia

no wish to move at all

Inertia

everything's a stone wall

Inertia



history let's you die

a ragged pile of silent accusers

smell the blood of strangers here

no eyes no ears no smell no taste

the mouth of the maggot is full of this place

murdered conscience the pressure is crushing heads

like paper lanterns now

unbreakable grip a dead hand

driving us forward to the end

kicking through the traces

a thousand years from now