
What is it we dream about?
To stand on top of our white cloud?
To shout our feelings loud and proud?
To jump and be able to fly around?
In the corner of two walls,
silent, creepy, waiting for,
lurking behind much closed door,
its the thoughts we're longing for.
Morning breaks, we lie awake,
washing off imagination,
is it today we find the fake?
Maybe its the day we reach the station.
There's point where it all ends,
there are many things in eyes,
angels giving helping hand,
no one true and no one lies.
Who could blame you for your cries,
when there is lot of things that ties,
you to the world of selfish lies,
its not always like you - nice.
Living lifes like grains of sand,
caught in clock that goes round and round,
bubbles made of frozen land,
won't get through and won't be found.
If it would be somehow ment,
each of us to live lone 'till end,
why our strongest part,
be our beautiful heart?
To stand on top of our white cloud?
To shout our feelings loud and proud?
To jump and be able to fly around?
In the corner of two walls,
silent, creepy, waiting for,
lurking behind much closed door,
its the thoughts we're longing for.
Morning breaks, we lie awake,
washing off imagination,
is it today we find the fake?
Maybe its the day we reach the station.
There's point where it all ends,
there are many things in eyes,
angels giving helping hand,
no one true and no one lies.
Who could blame you for your cries,
when there is lot of things that ties,
you to the world of selfish lies,
its not always like you - nice.
Living lifes like grains of sand,
caught in clock that goes round and round,
bubbles made of frozen land,
won't get through and won't be found.
If it would be somehow ment,
each of us to live lone 'till end,
why our strongest part,
be our beautiful heart?













