The armor is empty, the ghost has been fed,
I’ve left the old soldier in his cold, stone bed.
The coast is behind me, the water is clear,
The sound of the wreckage has died in my ear.
The wires are silent, the rhythm is won,
The long night is fading, the morning’s begun.
If you can’t hold on, just hold on—
The dog days are over, and I am in the sun.
(With apologies to Florence, the Killers, and Chrissie Hynde)