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...