Sometimes it’s better that we don’t know where we’re going.   We bet it all, but our cards are rarely showing.   It always ends the same:   We cash in all our chips and leave the game.      The house is dimmed and there’s no more sound to sing to.   The light you see are the flames that we all cling to   And you were quite the blaze-   a torch among the tea lights on parade.      So will you light my way?      We move on down a road that leads to somewhere   we’re not sure, but we hope that you will be there.   We won’t be the same,   we’re brighter now you’ve given us your flame.   Maybe someday we will meet again.