Woorden: Anathema. A Fine Day To Exit.

Long way from home
nowhere to go what made the river so cold
the sweat of thoughts trickle down my brow
soaking and stinging my eye
tell tale sighs and cries
of dreams unFULFILLED
and time is running DRY
PANIC stricken bloodshot hearts
TRY TO RESTART
but no longer build the well to survive
sweet oblivion
I got these feelings and I don't know why
I see all my fears in the darkness of light
WHAT MADE THE RIVER SO COLD?
never anyone to rearrange and fall to
time inside the EMPTY
call to the blameless I am faithless
placid dying eyes
you gotta face it head on so you can't turn this thing
around cos this ain't right you have to go eye to eye
raise your face to the sky cos this ain't
right I got to believe when I say only this is the way