Its the end of the road.
We built bridges in our minds.
Conspiring aspirations like foundations.
Smashing walls, wallowing dreams down.
Be not afraid of the future.
Its no promenade walking down the beautiful lane.

Trying to claim aim to pain.
Not aloud but in silence.
We're not insane trying to fain happiness and fear.
Confusing misery with living we lose the beautiful lane.

Not dying, crying, just trying lying.
Until we truly feel like laying praying for peace.
Tears, the fears of years, conceal these eyes.
Imagination creation in hibernation.
Our thoughts are starting to wonder how to spiral.
Faded, jaded, weathered and tired we traded
Our solid ground for the soundness of the beautiful lane.