I don’t believe in lights at the end of the tunnel,
But some believe that they will be saved,
Year after year we’re left out in the cold,
And our frostbitten skin is bliss.
Lights fade,
Belief decays,
The clock keeps on ticking,
Our answers are missing,
We can’t find where the answers lie,
When we’re gone and washed away,
The ocean tides will continue to sway,
The world will still turn the same way,
It did, before you were breathing.
Lost in paradise,
With only a sense of time,
Because we can’t face,
That all we are is dead-weight,
I don’t believe in lights at the end of the tunnel,
But some believe that They will be saved,
Year after year we’re left out in the cold,
and our frostbitten skin is bliss.
The lack of substance to our breathe,
The vacant answer in our thoughts,
The bitter way that we collide with reality,
The way the lost cut it short,
And when you look up to the constellations
Do you truly feel at home,
Lost deep in the blackness,
We move as one deadweight.
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