That look in your eyes Says that there's nothing left there at all That sweet paradise Now locked beyond doors
I'm losing control Stare at the bottom of oblivion I send greeting cards Farewell to you all (Time to move on)
Folded map in my pocket Good smoke for the road They call him the man who walks alone I write what I see I cease to succeed To play my role in this board game The quest to the unknown again Kingdom of lies blinded by the false light of divinity
Sleeping so the head can escape the heart Hiding like a rat in a sewer pipe And with my last breath I hope I'll find my way back home To find my way back
Subtle wind dance over no man's land Whistling a quiet melody Vultures cry in pleasure, solemn wish To be the poor man's king I write what I see, inhaling it deep I'm holding all back for this tour diary And now I know, there's nothing there for me Now I know, there is nothing thereTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
