What is left, what is left of those Twenty-five years of wandering? What is left, what is left of those Twenty-five years of wandering? ♪ Sometimes I can feel the shape of my soul Back when I was twelve Too many suns Too many suns have melted into the sea since then Am I living this life for real? Or is it all an eternal return? Oh ♪ We always send our prayers way up high What if God was just under our feet?