Silence.
Outside the rain- washing the sky.
The night goes on.
In the end, we will die...

Violence.
Why is this the answer?
Because that's not who we are
And so, we move on the old road,
Down the path we chose

And down again
The same cliché, always...
Circling around, again
The twentieth time, again
We escape the long cold tunnel...

And now-
Times have changed
We awake, we rearrange,
We escape the underworld
We ascend to our thoughts,
We awake, same cliché,
We arrange the time
Till we take the old train
To the ground bellow the sea,
Where the fire still burns
Where the ice still deceives
Where our life will no longer see
Stormy rivers, stormy sky
And its time for us to fly
For us to fly...
As the storm echo's through our ears