Blackfield - How Was Your Ride?

We're like the weather
You can't predict it
We never take the time
Heavy shackles
We can't move freely
We're leaving tracks on the ground
It's too late, so why pray now
You cynical bastard?
We all ate from your plate
So how was your ride?
Frozen moments
Your shadow's army
Will always give the command
It won't get better
Just string along
Until the curtain comes down
It's too late, so why pray now
You cynical bastard?
We all ate from your plate
So how was your ride?