So here I am, fumbling all my words again, but I'm not going back to ways things used to be for me. So here I go, the audience waits patiently to witness my demise. It always seems so cold to me. Where does this illusion end for us? How do I die right? I've seen the chain that ends a million miles from home. We spend all our time just waiting for the end. Another day begins, I find nobody there to hold me up or help me make amends. I am disillusioned from this game, and how can I die right? So here I go. I write how I think I feel, but who can really know? Is this life I live my own? And here I know the audience waits patiently, and will they get my life back on track, I seem to see. Where does this illusion end for us? How can I die right? I've seen the chain that ends a million miles from home. We spend all our time just waiting for the end. Another day begins, I find nobody there to hold me up or help me make amends. I am disillusioned by this game. How can I die right?
Гуру Песен