How can I tell others to ignore those voices when I haven’t banished mine,
I’m guilty of encouraging the pain,
Of living in darkness when I should’ve embraced the light,
Before it’s too late, I want to help,
Make myself useful to help others,
Even though I can’t help myself.
These trains, I sometimes long they never arrive at their destination,
I am a dreamer in these carriages and dead when I see the world without music.
It doesn’t feel right to distance myself so much, with this laughter,
When that thought hangs on, clings to me, and I never forget what I must face,
Is it me, is it the people, is it the place?
Is it my failure to recognise what I have now, things that I’ll lose,
Like that rose fence, and those wooden doors,
The candles burning at night, and the films we watched,
It’s all gone, and I fear that I don’t have the strength to relive a dream so gone, so dead.
When no one cares, forgive me Lord, for my faults, my thoughts,
But I want to speak the truth.