Why do I read, read between the lines Create the ideal Interpret What's not there
Time has passed, no sights have changed Misplaced pattern, rearrange
The light, the end Mirage past, the moment is gone I slip, fear grips I fall back
Time has past, no skies have changed Misplaced patterns, rearrange Will this be My last point of reference Go black My will Put to rest In darkness descend
With a loss of control The next step is clear Suppressing what used to me I turn away
