I guess that time and labor
Means nothing but a fable
With all the nonsense I’ve even heard
Throughout the shining moments
Truth comes from a lidless content
And in all falls undone
Isn’t it right?
Judging the world from afar?
Screaming for silence in solitude…
Searching for time to care.
Why won’t this soul come to me?
Shall it always be broken and scattered?
Why won’t this soul come to me?
Is it all just a hope to be free?
Meanings to fruitions, desires, disappointments
Reality is carving an aged faced inside of me
And in bleak moments…
I turn to see myself breaking free
A consequent illusion.
Scatter…
I’m just a man in a cage…
And I won’t ever break free.
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