The future is calling out my name
Telling me to proceed with caution
one step at a time
and he tells me he'll take me there
But here I stand still
Would you believe every tale he tells?
No, I said I prefer
To march alone
Less ones to blame
But then, gone are the euphoria
Not a sentiment calmer
Laying low in my own lies
Because the taste of nostalgia
is sweeter
than a thousand delicacies