So here's to the world
- without paper or pen -
I close my eyes and I start over again.
The dreams that chase me,
god they pull so hard.
And I can feel the aching
tearing apart my heart.
I never could see
the night through the day.
I never could dream
that maybe there was a better way.
These past memories
I've tried so hard to erase,
they pull and twist and turn,
and they seal my mortal fate.
I know it doesn't matter,
who's heart has bled,
or who's dreams are shattered
in these days ahead.
Screw your ideas
of what's right or wrong.
This is my fight,
and it was mine all along.
I never asked you to be here,
or to join this rampage.
I never expected this fear,
and the pain on this stage.
God do all our dreams
have to end like this?
Does the nightmare of morning
always have to exist?
Can the dreams of this darkness
just once refuse to fade,
and finally can our hatred
find a place to be laid?
We close our eyes in fear
of the future bled from the past.
And yet can you not see
that only those dreams were built to last?
