Looking back through the window in the door that now is closed. The looking glass that lost its tinted rose, At the secrets of the path we never chose.
We lose ourselves there and we fall into the arms of the unseen Of all that never was but should have been Beyond the day that woke us from the dream.
And it’s a little late to speculate on what we should have done. It’s a little late to overstate the obvious We considered every move we made Yet we did what we thought best So release the fist of dirt into the grave And lay the ghost to rest
Let it go with the hurt of all the promises unkept The pride behind apologies unsaid And the tradegy of hope we left for dead.
Because its as fruitless as the tears in the sour milk we spilt On the ruins of the tower that we built And the silence and the loneliness of guilt.
And it’s a little late to speculate on what we should have done And so easy now to overstate the obvious. We considered every move we made We did what we thought best. So throw down your fist of dirt into the grave And lay the ghost to rest.
This ones over No phoenix from these ashes will arise So let the tears upon the lashes of your eyes Fall to the desert ground and bring new life.
Walk away now Am not saying that we can or should forget Just don’t cloud our every sunrise with regret The curtain hasn't fallen on us yet The curtain hasn't fallen on us yet The curtain hasn't fallen on us yet.