| Walking through the barren land
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| Never-ending sea of sand
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| Million miles away from home, future unknown
|
| Dying sun before the dawn
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| Its tears of hope keep falling strong
|
| Northern star, oh so far like a beacon in the sky
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| The voices from the other side
|
| Calling me for the final ride
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| Is this a curse from down below?
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| My punishment will only grow
|
| Who decides if I live or if I fade away?
|
| The voices from the other side
|
| Calling me for the final ride
|
| I have always wandered on my own
|
| Searching in vain for some way to atone
|
| This will be the journey of my life
|
| I will survive, although I’m torn
|
| I’ll carry on until I find where I belong
|
| Morning rays cut through the dream
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| Welcome to reality
|
| Another pitch black night behind, I feel alive again
|
| The taste of blood is on my lips
|
| The burning sun tears me to strips
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| I have to leave, I still believe that I’ll find my way home
|
| The voices from the other side
|
| Calling me for the final ride
|
| I have always wandered on my own
|
| Searching in vain for some way to atone
|
| This will be the journey of my life
|
| I will survive, although I’m torn
|
| I’ll carry on until I find where I belong
|
| Where I belong, where I belong
|
| «If our impulses were confined to hunger, thirst, and desire
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| We might be nearly free;
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| But now we are moved by every wind that blows
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| And a chance word or scene that that word may convey to us…
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| Thus strangely are souls constructed,
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| And by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin…
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| I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel…»
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| I have always wandered on my own
|
| Searching in vain for some way to atone
|
| This will be the journey of my life
|
| I will survive, although I’m torn
|
| I’ll carry on until I find where I belong
|
| On my own
|
| Searching in vain for some way to atone
|
| This will be the journey of my life
|
| I will survive, although I’m torn
|
| I’ll carry on until I find where I belong
|
| Where I belong, where I belong |