It takes me time to realize

the very nature of the world we built

a world where I can cry what I want to cry

and I'm free from anybody's will

*

What are we and what we were?

It was the truth or just a dream?

Could the illusion lead to something else?

Is there something wrong in my way to feel?

*

Nobody will ever know

and maybe it's better that way

Those answers would not mean a thing at all

It wouldn't matter what anybody have to say

*

I'm stuck in the past

I'm stuck in what is yet to come

Two faces looking to opossite sides

never leting me a single thing to enjoy

*

Would they care when I'm gone?

Well I wouldn't be there to find the answer anyway

As long as there is a sun there will be a home

A sign telling me that is never too late...