Over the bridge and far away, there is a place where I want to be, a place that calls for me. Where the grass is greener and the children are happy. A place to lie down and close my eyes, relax my mind and free my soul. There the air is clean to breath, there the water is crystal clear. Over the bridge and far away, a refuge from this industry, the modern type of tyranny. From this sovereign skies that have no reflection of the blood that we shed in our melancholy and emptiness. From this society with eyes on the ground and jaws grinding with hate, spite and prejudice. Over the bridge I'll be far away, somewhere I want to be, free, able to breath and walk at late ours of the night without a dictator sky, only a bohemian heart willing to be satisfied.
In this side of the bridge I feel shackled, pressured, unable to go to sleep or to walk through the streets with my guard down. Here I have no home, no body, the mind floating from nightmare to nightmare, endlessly. This side is a spiral, a hill too hard to climb and with winds that blow you back and forth until you have no more strength. The sky has a hole where, everyday, millions of souls fly through. It leaves fear in your heart in despair in your mind. Here the grey clouds are all you see in the horizon, above you. They are with you every minute of your day, you spend your life wishing them away. And soon the dream turns to hate, you can't look at the sky anymore, the ground is your best friend and a stranger the enemy. Here the bridge is a dream that you can quickly forget. Far away is a shadow of doubt amidst the tears.
Over the bridge and far away, the wind blows, the sun shines, (someone) retrieve me from this dystopia, help me find all I'm meant to be.
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