...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6F_Hx3oLfvU&ab_channel=ArcadeFireVEVO

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He was re-tracing his steps,

Walking footprints, backwards

So as to preserve

Each impression, printed

Into a canvas of fallen snow.

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The good man,

The right thing,

The other cheek,

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Caritas, spirit -

That which sits unseen:

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He wondered what these things had really earned him,

Wondered after little-turns in a snow-down and causal,

Dotted foot-print trail.

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They'd probably earned him more

Than the wrong things ever did. But even then

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It was hard not to imagine, well,

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That the right thing may have been a lie -

That even its practitioners, had deeply suspected it

And that, this whole time, that whole entire time,

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He'd been buying his blood-stained ticket

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With a smile.

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