Smiles of their shallow passions,
blinded by the lights,
soaring from a wire noose,
wrapped in the fog of somewhere they can never know,
wearing masks of many colours hiding for all to see,
Projections of the milkyway turn the double helix at their core,
anti spiral of the pits winding wicked tales
empty souls that pass them by drawn in by the sales,
Where yesterday was,
or where tomorrow will be,
is nothing to do with me,
As the leaves turn
and snow begins to fall,
I will rise or I will burn,
Where yesterday was I can never prove,
Where will tomorrow move me,
Above or sent below,
Where yesterday was,
or where tomorrow will be,
is nothing to do with me
The scattered essence our alter egos
stare at them selves in the mirror,
shedding tears that pass us by
raining us into existence,
Something in the eyes of oceans,
whispering acid lies in depths unkown,
searching for our fish in a barrel
working for our shot in show,
when the curtains raise in endless motions,
the call will,
eventually come,
in piercing notions,
Where yesterday was,
or where tomorrow will be,
is nothing to do with me,
As the leaves turn
and snow begins to fall,
I will rise or I will burn,
Where yesterday was I can never prove,
Where will tomorrow move me,
Above or sent below,
Where yesterday was,
or where tomorrow will be,
is nothing to do with me,