The one that was never in the pictures,
The one that could find a way to keep distance,
& how can I stay awake if I'm on battlegrounds,
At half past 3 I'm saying goodbyes,
At 10 past 4 I'm hearing cries,
& all those pictures create a story,
Of an outsider's pain,
How for something new start,
An old dream must end,
But I hear that same old story,
Over and over again.
