The Last Pale Light In The West en Ben Nichols

In my hands, I hold the ashes
In my veins, black pitch runs
In my chest, a fire catches
In my way, the setting sun
Dark clouds gather 'round me
To the west, my soul is bound
And I will go on ahead, free
There's a light yet to be found

The last pale light in the west
The last pale light in the west

And I ask for no redemption
In this cold and barren place
Still I see the faint reflection
And so by it, I got my way

The last pale light in the west
The last pale light in the west