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...