Glory

It's what you think, it's what it's like, so many pieces remain tonight, you've had it all and now you can't get up. It's just the way the story goes, the glass is cut and none of those who've licked your boots will help you now. Get up. She's run over the fields of glory, sha lah lah, cold rain is slapping across her face, sha lah lah. She's run over the fields of glory, sha lah lah. She's run away from the fields of love, the fields of love.