Is anybody really free, prisoners of
|
the strange society
|
Why is it we're forced to be products
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of the new reality
|
Drifting through time and space
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and all the while
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Feeling out of place
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I'm out of reach
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Waiting for the time to come
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And every second always on the run
|
Looking for love once more
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Then turning back and closing every door
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Thinking that what might have been
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Had that itch not gotten 'neath your skin
|
|
Praying to an idol sign
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Believing this can keep your dream alive
|
Worried 'bout the waste of youth
|
Hoping that with age there will come truth
|
Dying to get out in time
|
Before the shadows start to cloud your mind
|
|
-----------------
|
Out Of Reach
|
| Dead Moon |
