Time is passing by, slowly the days are flowing
This room's getting smaller while my fears are growing
This labyrinth where my own will is lost
Is hidding the way out with the dark of past.
Alone, next to the window I hunt with my eyes
I'm tired even that's not what I pretend.
Life's a mix of oblivion and fame
A really strange psychological game
This labyrinth where my own will is lost
Is hidding the way out with the dark of past.
Alone, next to the window I hunt with my eyes
I'm tired even that's not what I pretend.
Sometimes I fall or fail and sad I rise up
To go to the other one,
but alone with no doubt. |
