How do you live a digital dream? Look but don’t touch - somehow a dirty scheme. Boys turn to men as the minutes go by. ‘Seems like it was yesterday’ becomes a brilliant lie. Walls are no fun and chairs just don’t talk. You run out of places to go on your walk. And that’s when them clouds start to grow so dark...
Feels like a million years of rain. It keeps coming down, every drop is a burning pain. No winds to fly in hope, no star that lights the sky. And you’re out in the cold, watching how a piece of you dies.
It’s hard to hear faceless words when a voice slowly faints. It appears when you step on the bus, but then again, you know it ain’t. Your thirst keeps pouring acid into those scarves. And black clouds gather around the bar...
Feels like a million years of rain. It keeps coming down, every drop is a burning pain. No winds to fly in hope, no star that lights the sky. And you’re out in the cold, watching how a piece of you dies.
A question rises: What has been sold? Is this the truth you are living or the greatest lie ever told? I hear them clouds calling my name. A constant friction that will burst out in flames.
The sun no longer sets upon a ghost, soaking wet. No home to shelter in, no place to hide. An arcane solitude born out of pride. The fog grows thick as thoughts grow sick. I lost my name. What is my name? Tell me my name!