I would tell my truth, but what if illusions are only what I see?
I would tell my sins, but what if white is all what I can be?
I would tell and tell again, but what could it change about me?
I would tell, but I know those lengthly words can't set me free.
I know, yes I know, those roads of fate branching out like an old tree,
I dream, yes I dream, those days with the sun by the side of the sea,
I care, yes I care, those loads I lift alone and brought me on the knee,
I love, yes I love, those wise ways I leave behind on that chasing spree.
Those grains, in the hour glass, slipping away soundless,
those dreams, in the blue sky, wondering around aimless,
these steps, upon a darkened path, tripping over shameless,
that voice, in a void space, shouting aloud tireless.
And again, I would tell, in hopes that might change the days,
thinking about those cries, all those arrogant self-righteous ways,
I try to knock off those walls, take a risk on a million mays,
but again, who knows, I might have lost it, one of those strays.
