But everyone, wake or asleep,
Doesn't care 'bout me one bit.
Like I am a harmless breeze,
Like I don't even exist.

For they can not see what I see,
Not all who wander find their key.
I mourned for them, I really did.
Their mind is shackled by their feet.

For they will never realize,
They have vision—blind is their mind.
Their eyes can't see what my own does,
Their soul isn't a breeze like mine.