I\'m marching \'round these walls
For the eighth time
But they\'re showing no cracks
And my trumpet is blocked
With sand
Some days I\'ve seen a brick fall
Some nights I\'ve seen small crumbles
But all holes have been filled
Quick-setting plaster
Reversing weakness
To strength
Each lap is the same path
And what was fresh has staled
With the wild wolves
Returning to sniff my tracks
As the sun disappears
Oh to enter the city gates
And find safe shelter
Oh to join the wondrous song
I hear from here
Outside