What becomes of me when even I can’t take my disregard To life’s demanding rules, those who keep the weak minded behind bars? When did I forget the words my father said and what I was taught? Will I need regret to haunt my inexistence so I can see for once?
Throw my ashes down in the gutter If they don’t sort it out call it murder
What if I grow old with nothing left but my youth’s deeds and dreams? My faith was always there, even not knowing what to believe. Now the time has turned, I search for something real, I need my essence back Blowing with the wind, I know I’ll find the answer when I know which way is home
Throw my ashes down in the gutter If they don’t sort it out call it murder Wisdom won’t change where the sun sets It will only teach how to walk in the dark
