to let me in from the cold
turn my lead into gold
'cause there's a chill wind 
blowing in my soul
and I think I'm growing old

flash... the readies... wot's... uh the deal
got to make it to the next meal
try to keep up with the turning of the wheel
mile after mile stone after stone
you turn to speak but you're alone
million miles from home
you're on your own

so let me in from the cold
turn my lead into gold
'cause there's a chill wind 
blowing in my soul
and I think I'm growing old

fire bright by candle light
with her by my side
if she prefers we need never stir again
someone sent the promised land
and I grabbed it with both hands
now I'm the man 
on the inside looking out

hear me shout come on in
what's the news where you been
'cause there's no wind left in my soul
and I've grown old