Being carried on
the gental current...

The great pain
of one thought...

With the night quickly passing by
AS I dance I ask myself why...

A haunting sound
Coming from...

There is time
For you to...

I try to talk to you
Yet you stay still...

Falling through the sky
Making somebody's day...

Go back through time
Looking on the wrong...

To go away
From all reality...

Made of rotten wood
Over run with vines...

One out of
Many Generations...

Must run
Must hide...