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...