| I lay my body down
|
| To rest my weary head
|
| I think I left someone there
|
| I left myself for dead
|
| So is there anybody here
|
| Who can tell me where I am
|
| Or at least where I have been?
|
| Because I fear I’m lost, and I cannot be found again
|
| I left my soul exposed to frail hands who hold
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| My fate up in the air
|
| And through their fingers fall the meaning of it all
|
| Down to the floor it goes
|
| So is there anybody here
|
| Who can tell me where I am?
|
| Waking in the afternoon, a captive in a passive tomb
|
| Moments turn to long Decembers, stoking fires from dying embers
|
| I try to move a limb, but there’s a disconnect within
|
| A devil in the alchemy, a phantom staring back at me
|
| It’s you
|
| So is there anybody here
|
| Who can tell me where I am
|
| Or at least where I have been?
|
| Because I fear I’m lost, and I cannot be found again
|
| Just waking in the afternoon, a captive in a passive tomb
|
| Moments turn to long Decembers, stoking fires from dying embers
|
| I try to move a limb but there’s a disconnect within
|
| A devil in the alchemy, a phantom staring back at me
|
| A pain I simply can’t express, from troubles I have long repressed
|
| And then there’s you… |