V1)
Life following art, devised and schemed part by part,
Nothing treasured, only measured. Nothing important, only pertinant.
We sing songs hollow as the sun's empty shadow, we follow no one
A empty head below a empty sky, a empty verse, a dreamer's curse.
V2)
I, the greatest why, the endless try, the fading sky.
In my thoughts, the only city that lay pretty, the only abandon lay un-empty.
As the stars hung up in random patterns, the future just kind of happens.
We are but mere passenger, and god is not the messenger, me? I'll always be the voyager.
C)
The starlight, illuminating the night, what a godly sight,
Yet it is hung over hell, where life is the only thing up for sale,
This warzone we call home, where we all fight alone, afraid to be more than flesh and bone.
They drop on the streets, so incomplete, unavoidable fate, for a world of hate.
And time sails on by, without stopping to ask us why, or even give us the time to try.
Verse 3)
Life is not a promise, nor a dream. Yet it is all that has ever been.
We walk alone with everyone, we sing songs no one hears, we cry invisible tears,
and the shadows fall on our hearts, like we are little more than spare parts,
All ink on a tree, all simple poetry, all words dangling like sulpher rising.
To which way the verse shall wind, or to even think why we were designed.
Is a dreamer's wish, one he'll carry until the finish, one that will never vanish.
