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Life seems to stand still in time |
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As the soul retires, deaf, dumb and blind |
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And all we feel |
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If far from real |
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As these gears which, once, had driven us |
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Lie still and frozen |
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Innocence has long grown old |
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As idle hearts have long grown cold |
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Right or wrong |
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We go along |
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Lame and tired |
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The will to try |
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Deep down inside all of us |
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Lies dying |
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It's easy |
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Not to see |
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What this should be |
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Wind this spring and watch it grow |
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Stand back and watch as it explodes |
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And all unfolds |
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As all we hold, |
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Wound tightly, carefully, silently |
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Unravels Idle hands have lost their hold |
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As idle minds think what they're told |
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Right or wrong |
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We go along |
|
Lame and tired |
|
The will to try |
|
Deep down inside all of us |
|
Lies dying |
|
It's easy |
|
Not to see |
|
What this could be |
|
Right or wrong |
|
We go along |
|
Lame and tired |
|
The will to try |
|
Deep down inside all of us |
|
Lies dying |
|
It's easy |
|
Not to see |
|
What this could be |
